


Accidental First Date

by Powerfulweak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Cards Against Humanity, F/F, F/M, First Date, Fluff, Goofy sweet nerds, Homophobic Language, M/M, NSFW, Segment Producer!Castiel, Sexual Harassment, Teacher!Dean, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-02-23 19:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 65,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/pseuds/Powerfulweak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's date cancels on him at the last minute. Luckily, the stranger in the waiting area is willing to share a table with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [Tumblr](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/). I really have no idea where this verse is going, but it's cute and I like these adorable dorks.

Dean scowls at his phone.

45 minutes. 45 goddamn minutes waiting at an Olive Garden and his date decides to cancel on him by text.

For once, he’d actually been excited about going on a date. The girl from the coffee shop, Bela, was hot and smart. Apparently though, she thought it was acceptable to cancel a date, 30 minutes late, with an enigmatic text that only read  _can’t make it tonight_.

Dean sighs and looks down at the pager in his hands. Maybe he can pass it off to someone else and decrease their wait; it’ll be his good deed for the month. He glances around the doorway where groups of different sizes are gathered. Friday night and of course the restaurant is packed. He doesn’t see any party or group smaller than four people, none of which could take his spot for two.

He notices a single man sitting on the bench across from him. He seems oblivious to the noise around him, deeply concentrated on the book (an actual ink-and-paper-book) he’s reading. Dean sees that it’s “A Feast for Crows” and smiles to himself, knowing what the man has coming before the end.

“Uh, hey,” Dean says. The man doesn’t notice that Dean is speaking to him, “uh ,Sir?” Dean speaks up over the noise of the hallway. The man raises his head and looks at Dean, who is caught off-guard by the disarming blue-eyed stare.

“Yes?” he answers tentatively, voice unnaturally deep.

“You, uh, waiting for many more people?” Dean asks. The man tilts his head curiously to the side.

“No,” he replies, shaking his head. Dean extends his hand out across the way, offering the pager in his direction.

“If you want, you can take my place in line,” Dean says. “It’s only for two, but I bet they would make an exception if you need more.” The man stares at the proffered item.

“Don’t you need it?” He asks, furrowing his brow and staring at Dean. Dean huffs a unhappy laugh and runs a hand through his short, light brown hair.

“My date actually cancelled on me,” he admits. “You and your friends might as well take my spot.”

“I’m on my own, actually,” the man says. It’s Dean’s turn to give him a curious stare.

“You’re here alone?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yes.”

“You’re going out to eat alone?”

“Yes.” Dean looks at the man for a long moment.

“Why?” he asks.

“I felt like pasta tonight,” he replies with a small shrug.

“Yeah, but why not just take it to-go?” Dean suggests. “Why sit alone in a crowded restaurant,” he gestures to the book sitting at the man’s side, “reading?” The man glances down at the book and shrugs.

“I like getting out of the house,” he replies, “and I like the atmosphere of a crowded restaurant.” Dean just stares at the man, baffled by his answer.  _Who is this guy?_ , he thinks.

“Don’t… Don’t you feel uncomfortable? I mean, people have to stare, right?” Dean can’t imagine just sitting alone in a crowded restaurant looking like… well, looking like a guy whose date stood him up, actually.

“They might, but I don’t let it bother me,” the man says with a small shrug. “Their discomfort with me is their problem, not mine.” Dean leans back and considers this, impressed with his line of reason.

The buzzer abruptly begins to flash and vibrate in Dean’s hand. Frantically he once again passes it over the aisle toward the man.

“Here, you might as well have your dinner 30 minutes sooner,” he says. This time, the man takes the pager, quietly thanking him. Dean stands to leave and just as he’s pushing open the door, there’s a voice calls out behind him.

“Why don’t you join me?” the man says. Dean turns to face him, the pager still flashing in his hands.

“I thought you wanted to eat alone?” Dean asks, hands dropping absently into the pockets of his jacket.

“I don’t mind eating alone, but I do prefer having company at a meal,” he clarifies. Dean’s eyes drop to the floor and he thinks for a moment. He was planning on clearing out the backlog of  _Top Chef_  episodes from his DVR with his newly-free night, but the thought of breadsticks has been driving him crazy all day. He glances at the pager in the man’s hand, no doubt on its last call.

“Alright,” Dean says, “why not?” The man smiles brightly and Dean can’t help but smile back. He stands off the bench and they make their way to the hostess station.

 

*******

 

Dinner is… interesting, to say the least. The man, Castiel, ( _“That’s a helluva name.” “I got off lucky compared to my brother Balthazar. Most people just call me Cas.”_ ) is 32, he has a cat and a guinea pig ( _“Aren’t you afraid of the cat attacking it?” “Believe me, she is much more scared of him than he is of her. With good reason.”_ ), he is fascinated with honey bees, and is a segment producer for the local news station.

“It’s really not as cool as it sounds,” Cas says, cleaning his salad plate with the last bite of a breadstick. Dean looks at him doubtfully.

“Have you ever gotten to ride in Chopper 4?” Dean asks, referring to their infamous traffic helicopter. Cas’ sheepish silence is answer enough. “Then yes, it is as cool as it sounds.”

“It pays the bills,” Cas shrugs. “Besides, your jobs sounds wonderful, too.” Dean huffs a laughs and lightly rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, being ignored by 10th graders while I try to teach them Vonnegut. Never ending excitement there,” he snarks.

“But you’re making a difference,” Cas presses. “Expanding young minds, training the future, promoting the growth of culture.” Dean looks at him ruefully, shaking his head fondly.

“You know you sound like my mom?” He chides.

“Your mom sounds like she knows her shit,” Cas offers, popping a crouton into his mouth. Dean laughs loudly at the unexpected response.

 

*******

 

“You want to get dessert?” Cas asks, stacking their empty plates and pushing them to the end of the table ( _“You were a waiter once, weren’t you?” “It’s that obvious, huh?”_ ). Dean pats his stomach and exhales.

“I’d love to, but they’d have to roll me out of here if I ate much more,” he says.

“We could share something?” Cas offers, raising a curious eyebrow. This gives Dean pause.

“I don’t know, man,” he mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t that give, um, the wrong impression.” It’s Cas turn to look perturbed.

“What kind of impression?” He asks. Dean grimaces, wishing he didn’t have to spell it out for him.

“You know, like you’re on a date. With a guy.” Castiel’s confused expression doesn’t change. “Doesn’t that bother you?” Cas thinks about this for a moment, before frowning slightly and shaking his head.

“Well, considering that my preferences are open and you are a, um… well, I mean,  _you know_  you’re an attractive man, there’s no question there. So to answer your question, no, I’m not bothered.” Castiel’s expression quickly shifts to one of concern. “Why? Does it bother  _you_?” Dean is taken aback by the question. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t batted for the other team on occasion, but he doesn’t know how willing he is to admit it to someone who is, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. Yet, Castiel is looking at him so sincerely and Dean doesn’t want to lie to the guy.

“No, no, of course not,” he stammers quietly. “My, uh, preferences are, um… the same.” He smiles, hoping he can salvage this conversation from a pit of awkwardness. Thankfully, Castiel smiles back and continues to examine the dessert menu.

When the waitress returns, they both order cappuccinos and a tiramisu to share. Dean finds himself relaxing, less worried about the attitude of the customers around him and more focused on clear blue eyes and a pair of chapped pink lips wrapping around a forkful of tiramisu.

 

*******

  
They continue talking long after they’ve finished dessert and paid. They are only aware of how much time has passed when Dean glances at his phone and gapes.

“It’s 10:30!?” he gasps. “We’ve been here 3 hours?” Castiel looks down at his watch and hums.

“I suppose we have,” he murmurs. “We should probably go.” Dean is surprised by the sudden resistance he feels to leaving the restaurant, especially if it means ending one of the best evenings he’s had in months.

“Yeah, I guess we should,” Dean agrees reluctantly, looking away. He reaches for his wallet and drops an extra five dollar bill on the table. He hopes that will make it up to the waitress for camping at her table all night.

They walk out together into the parking lot. They stand in silence for a long moment, enjoying the cool night air.

“I had fun tonight,” Dean says, finally breaking the quiet tension. “Um, thank you for inviting me to join you.” Cas looks at him and smiles, bright eyes reflecting the nearby lights of the parking lot.

“It was my pleasure, Dean,” he replies. “You’re a fascinating person.” Dean laughs lightly at this and scrubs a hand over his reddening face.

“Well, you’re not so bad yourself,” he adds, glancing back up at Castiel. They stare at each other for a long moment. Dean wants to ask for his number. He wants to ask to see him again. He wants to know how he takes his coffee in the morning.

He wants to ask a million things of Castiel but he can’t, because the next thing he knows, soft lips are pressed to his in a chaste but urgent kiss.

Dean is frozen for a moment before he realizes what’s going on and quickly kisses Cas back. It’s not an earth-shaking kiss, but as far as first date kisses go, it’s definitely in Dean’s top five. Cas pulls back first and Dean chases his lips for a brief moment, eyes closed and relaxed. His eyelids flutter open and he sees Cas in front of him once more, but this time it’s like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“Um, that was nice,” Castiel says quietly. Dean can only nod, not sure he has the ability to coordinate his lips, tongue and voice at the moment.

“Can I… Can I get your number?” Dean nods again and takes Castiel’s proffered phone from him. He mechanically types in his number, his brain still struggling to catch up with the rest of him.

“Can I get yours?” he finally croaks out. Castiel grins and taps on his phone, Dean’s phone coming to life in response with the familiar opening chords of “Thunderstruck.”

“Now you’ve got it,” Cas says coyly. He’s grinning again and Dean wants to kiss him again so damn bad. Instead, he reaches out for Cas’ fingers, brushing a thumb over the top of his knuckles.

“I’ll call you, ok?” he says. Cas nods and bids a soft goodbye. Dean walks toward the Impala, grinning from ear to ear and dying to call Sam or Charlie and tell them about everything.

“Hey Dean!” Cas’ voice rings out across the parking lot. Dean turns to see him standing about 20 feet away next to a a little Volkswagen. “For our second date, what do you think about burgers?”


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel sits in his brother’s kitchen, quietly munching on Meg’s leftover meatloaf, and watching as Balthazar tries to feed their adorable, although rambunctious 8-month-old.

“No, no, Hannah, love,” Balthazar coos, as the baby squeals gleefully, flailing her chubby hands. “We do not put pears in our hair. No. Pears. In. The. Hair.” Castiel snorts and shakes his head.

“What?” Balthazar asks over his shoulder as he tries to slip a spoon into the babies mouth.

“Nothing,” Castiel says, as he takes another bite of green bean casserole. “I just recall this image of you passed out drunk on mom and dad’s front lawn... in full drag.”

“eh...College,” Balthazar shrugs. “So how are things, Castiel?” He scoops another spoonful of puree into the baby’s mouth. Cas shrugs slightly, wondering how he is going to bridge this subject with his brother.

“I, uh, had a date last night,” he offers quietly. Balthazar turns in his seat and stares at Castiel is disbelief.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Cas says, scooping up a forkful of potatoes.

“Like an actual, real-life, date? With another person?” Balthazar inquires. “You know it doesn’t count if it’s your waiter….”

“Yes” Cas emphasizes. “Honestly, that was one time…”

“I thought you were put-off from dating, especially after, whatshername... Crazy-Face.”

“April,” Castiel corrects, although he doesn’t entirely disagree with the moniker.

“Whatever,” Balthazar mumbles, giving the spoon to Hannah for her to gnaw on so he can turn to face Cas. “So? Details?”

“Well, I went out to eat last night, and I was waiting for a table and this...” Castiel grins unintentionally, cheeks reddening slightly, “very attractive guy-”

“Oh, a man this time?” Balthazar interrupts, taken aback. “Surprising. I thought after Bartholomew-”

“Please don’t mention him,” Cas mumbles. “But yes, a man. Anyway, we were both waiting for a table. He offered me his spot because his date cancelled on him and I asked if he wanted to join me.”

“Wait, wait,” Balthazar holds up a hand. “This all happened last night?” Castiel shrugs and nods.

“Yeah,” he says. Balthazar shakes his head ruefully.

“Oh Cassie,” he mumbles. “That wasn’t a date.” Castiel sits up straight and grimaces at his brother.

“Yes, it was,” he states flatly.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was,” Castiel reiterates, standing from the table and dropping his empty plate into the sink.

“No, it wasn’t,” Balthazar says, wiping off the baby’s face with her bib. “That was a ‘get-to-know-you’ meal.” Castiel stares at him quizzically.

“Otherwise known as ‘a date’,” he says slowly.

“No, a date has romantic intentions behinds it,” Balthazar offers. “That was you making a new friend.” He pulls a flailing Hannah out of her chair and deposits her into Cas’ arms.

“We talked for over 3 hours!” Cas insists. They are interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

“Bal?” Meg calls from the entryway.

“In the kitchen,” he answers, “Castiel is here.” Meg enters with a 2-year-old Cecily perched on her hip. She crosses the room and gives Balthazar a quick peck on the lips.

“Darling, settle something for us,” he says as he takes the toddler from her. “Cas met a random stranger at a restaurant while waiting for a table and they ended up having a 3-hour meal together. Date or not?”

“Three hours?” Meg asks, raising an eyebrow at Cas as he places Hannah onto her playmat. Cas nods.

“We talked for awhile,” he offers. Meg eyes him skeptically.

“Was there a kiss?” she asks with a smirk. Balthazar gives him an inquisitive look as well. Castiel bites at his lips, unable to hide a smile.

“Uh, yeah, there was,” he admits.

“Oh yeah. Definitely a date.” Meg chuckles. Balthazar frowns.

“You left out that rather important detail, Castiel,” he grouses.

“Even if we hadn’t kissed, it would’ve still been a date,’ Cas says.

“Don’t let him get to you, Clarence,” Meg offers, pulling a juice box out of the fridge for Cecily. “His idea of a first date is body shots and going at it in the parking lot.”

“Got you, didn’t it?” Balthazar says playfully, lightly slapping her on the behind. Meg tries to look irritated, but her smile gives her away. It is an interaction Castiel is very familiar with. From the moment Balthazar had brought her home to meet their family, Castiel knew his brother had met his match in Meg. It’s the kind of dynamic he envies.

“So, this random stranger: guy or girl?” Meg asks, leaning over the counter on her elbows.

“Guy,” Castiel answers shyly, sitting back down at the table. “His name is Dean. He’s a high school teacher. He likes vintage cars and he’s already read all of the “Song of Fire and Ice” books.”

“Oh my God, you _have_ found a kindred spirit,” Balthazar groans. “Does he have a thing about bees, as well?”

“Is he hot?” Meg asks, eyes brightening. “Tell me he’s hot.” Castiel laughs and rubs a hand down his face.

“So _fucking_ hot!” he admits, forgetting his two-year-old niece is sitting next to him.

“Language, Cas,” Balthazar warns. “I have an idea. Why don’t the wee princesses take their juice to the living room and they can watch ‘Sofia the First.’” Cecily squeals and is instantly off her chair, scampering to the living room with Balthazar trailing after her. Meg walks around the counter and plops down in the vacated seat next to Cas.

“Next time you see him, you’re going to need to get photographic evidence of his hotness,” Meg says. “You _are_ seeing him again, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cas says quickly, remembering the vague promise of burgers. “Definitely.”

“When?” Meg presses.

“Soon, I think,” Cas shrugs. “He said he’d call me.” Meg tilts her head and considers him.

“Do you not have his number?” She asks.

“I do.”

“Then why aren’t you calling him?” she inquires. “Lock that shit down.”

“It’s been one day, Jesus, Meg!” Castiel grumbles lightly. “Isn’t there an obligatory 3-day waiting period or something? And anyway he said he’d call me.” Meg shrugs non-committedly.

“Waiting periods are for suckers and assholes who play mind games,” she says. “And so what if he said he’d call you; if you like him, nothing says you can’t call him first.”

“Doesn’t that make me seem a little… I don’t know, desparate?” Cas asks.

“Not unless the first words out of your mouth are ‘ _let me suck your cock_ ’,” Meg says flatly. “They’re not going to be, are they?” Castiel laughs and shakes his head.

“I don’t know… I really like him, Meg,” he admits. “What if it’s not really mutual?” Meg gives him a deadpan look.

“You spent three hours talking about _Game of Thrones_ , that damn guinea pig of yours and (let me guess) bees?” Castiel looks away guiltily in answer.

“Amongst other things,” he mutters.

“I think it’s a pretty safe bet, Clarence, that this guy has it just as bad,” Meg continues. “And why wouldn’t he? You’re a catch” She notices his phone sitting on the table, reaches over and picks it up, handing it to him.

“Shoot him a text if it makes it easier.” Castiel takes his phone from her and stares at the lock screen, thumb hovering over the slider. He swipes his thumb to the right and taps the _message_ icon.

 

*******

 

Dean stabs at a piece of sausage with his fork and eyes his phone. Sam and him have a standing _“first one to look at their phone, buys”_ rule when they go out to eat and Dean is determined to make Sam foot the bill today. It doesn’t make it any less tempting to grab his phone and stare at Castiel’s number for the dozenth time.

“So I think me and Jess might move in together,” Sam says as cuts a piece of omelet.

“Uh-huh,” Dean says absently.

“We’ve also started talking about getting married in the future,” Sam continues, carefully watching his brother.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbles, eyes flicking between his plate and his cell phone.

“Because, y’know, since she’s pregnant and all.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Of course we don’t know who the baby’s father is. We’re going to try to go on Maury once it’s born,” Sam says, mouth curling at the corners.

“That’s great, Sam.”

“Dammit, Dean! You haven’t heard a word I’ve said,” he says with a laugh. Dean looks up at his brother, perturbed.

“Yeah, I have,” he scoffs.

“Oh really?” Sam asks, smirking at Dean. “Then what was I saying?”

“Uhhh… Something,” he waves his hand vaguely in the air, “work-related. Lawyer stuff.” Sam throws his head back and laughs.

“Not even close,” he levels a stare at his brother. “Who is she?” Dean could curse that Sam guessed what was going on so quickly.

“Who’s who?” Dean asks, playing dumb.

“Who is this girl that has you so spun up that you keep staring at your phone like it’s going to do a trick.” Dean sighs and let’s his shoulders drop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy.”

“Oh please!,” Sam groans. “I haven’t seen you this spacey since Cassie Robinson let you touch her boobs in 9th grade. There’s got to be a girl!”

“I can promise you that there is absolutely no girl,” Dean says honestly and looking Sam directly in the eye. He glares at Dean in concentration, still smirking, when his face quickly brightens.

“Holy Shit! It’s a guy!” he exclaims. Dean startles and stares at Sam.

“What? C’mon, Sam…” Dean says dismissively.

“Dean, we shared a bedroom until I was 16,” Sam counters. “I am well-aware of what you like. I have found your porn collections (plural) more than once.” Dean reddens slightly and occupies himself with his eggs.

“So…?” Sam inquires. Dean sighs and puts down his fork.

“So, I had a date last night-”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Sam interrupts.

“Yeah, well, she cancelled on me a 30 minutes late. So I tried to give my spot in line away to this guy who also happened to be alone and he asked me to join him for dinner and…” Dean bites at his lip attempting to contain a smile, “It went really well.” Sam stares at him smugly for a moment.

“How well is ‘really well’?” he asks.

“There was a kiss at the end of the night,” Dean offers. “A really… _really_ nice kiss.” Dean smiles to himself at the memory.

“So that’s what’s got you all giddy?” Sam asks. Dean casts him a withering look.

“I am not _giddy_!” he insists.

“Oh no, you most definitely are,” Sam replies. “What’s his name?”

“Castiel,” Dean answers. “He’s pretty awesome. He works as a segment producer for Action News.” Sam’s eyes widen.

“Has he ever ridden in Chopper 4?” Sam asks eagerly.

“Yes!” Dean replies with equal enthusiasm. “And he’s really interested in bees and board games. He’s reading “Feast for Crows” right now.” Sam snorts lightly as Dean continues to gush.

“And you’re waiting for him to call you?” He asks, nodding toward Dean’s phone.

“I said I would call him, actually,” he says with a frown.

“And you haven’t yet because…” Sam looks at him expectantly.

“You have to wait,” Dean says finally, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Why?” Sam balks.

“Because you have to wait three days,” Dean answers. “That’s the rules.” Sam raises an eyebrow at him.

“Says who?” Dean opens his mouth to answer, but he has no response. “Honestly Dean, are you really going to wait three days, driving yourself crazy, just as some sort of power-play with someone you genuinely like?” Dean deflates and lets his head drop into his hands. He rubs them down his face and glares at his brother, a triumphant expression on his face.

“Well, when you put it like that,” Dean replies caustically. He reaches for his phone, but his hand hovers over it, not touching it. He gives Sam a questioning look. Sam sighs loudly and looks at the ceiling.

“I will buy my own breakfast,” he huffs, “just pick up the damn phone.” Dean smiles and as he grabs the phone, the message signal chimes. Dean is confused but his face instantly brightens when he turns it over to see the message lit up across the lock screen.

_Cas:_   
_Hello Dean_

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean pulls up outside of a mission-style town house, taking a moment to appreciate the neighborhood. It’s a quiet street, lined with trees and older-style homes. The river is only a block over and Dean guesses that there must be a premium on a location like this.

He exits the Impala, smoothing down his crisp, green dress shirt, something Sam picked out for him after he had nixed every flannel Dean had pulled from his closet ( _“Jesus Christ, Dean! What are you? A lumberjack?” “You’re one to talk, Paul Bunyan.”_ ).

As he approaches the door, Dean wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, trying to quell his nervous energy. As he reaches out to press the doorbell, There is a muffled sound of footsteps coming closer followed by the door opening. Dean feels like his heart skips a beat at the sight.

Castiel stands in the doorway in slacks, an oxford shirt and a tailored vest. He smiles brightly in recognition, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Hello, Dean” Castiel says, and maybe Dean can’t help his heart doing a little flip at the sound of Castiel saying his name. “Are you ready?” Dean nods, trying to control the goofy little smile slowly spreading across his face. Castiel closes and locks the front door, and they walk to the Impala.

“So I hope you’re hungry,” Dean says, making conversation, “because I found us the best burger place in the city. I swear it’ll make you weep.” Cas hums in appreciation and opens the car door.

“That sounds great,” he says, “but before we go to dinner, uh… we’re not on a timeline or anything, right?” Dean stops and looks at Cas uncertainly.

“No. Not that I can think of,” he replies cautiously.

“So you didn’t make reservations?” Cas asks. Dean chuckles in response.

“It’s not really the kind of place that takes reservations,” Dean says. Cas’ face breaks into a wide, devious grin.

“Good,” he says, “because I’ve got a surprise for you.” He slips into the front seat and closes the door. Dean follows, looking at him hesitantly.

“A surprise?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“What kind of surprise?” Castiel gives Dean a deadpan look.

“If I tell you, it’s no longer a surprise, thus defeating the purpose,” Cas states plainly. Dean snorts and turns turns the key. The engine roars to life.

“Alright then,” he says, “just tell me where to go.”

 

*******

 

They pull up across the street from a gray office building. Dean frowns in confusion as he exits the car, glancing up at the large sign on the side of the building and then at Cas.

“‘Action News’?” he asks. “This is where you work?” Cas nods and tips his head to the side. “C’mon,” he says, motioning for Dean to follow him.

The building is mostly empty, the hallways sparsely lit. Castiel explains how they are on a skeleton crew until the 9 pm newscast. He waves hello to a few people as they pass, leading Dean to an elevator bay. They take the elevator to the fourth floor, the doors opening on a large space packed with cubicles.

“Wow,” Dean says. “This is… depressing.”

“This is where I work,” Castiel admits. Dean looks at him and gapes, about to apologize. “And you’re correct. It is depressing.” Castiel smiles warmly, and Dean feels some of his embarrassment abate.

He follows Castiel past identical workspaces, stopping briefly at Castiel’s own desk. It’s impersonal save for a “Far Side” Calendar tacked to the cube wall and a photo of Cas with his arms wrapped a beaming dark-haired little girl and baby.

“My nieces,” Cas offers when he Dean looking at the picture curiously. He plucks his phone out of his pocket, looking at the time and frowning.

“Hmmm, we better hurry,” he mumbles.

“I thought you said we weren’t on a timetable,” Dean asks, trying not to blush as Cas lightly tugs on his fingers, pulling him down the walkway.

“ _We’re not_ ,” Cas clarifies, “but there is a key player who is.” They go through two more doors and another hallway before coming to a door half-cracked open, light spilling out into the passageway. Cas knocks lightly, a voice inside responding for them to come in. Cas pushes through the door to reveal a wiry-looking man with scraggly facial hair and a toothy grin.

“Hey, Cas man,” the stranger says, jovially taking Cas’ hand and shaking it.

“Hello, Garth,” Cas responds. He turns to to Dean, extending out his arm, “this is Dean Winchester. Dean, this is Garth.” Dean shakes his hand warily, still unsure of what Cas has planned.

“Nice to meet you, man,” Garth says, shaking Dean’s hand enthusiastically. He looks at Cas, “y’all ready, then?” Cas nods and Garth moves past him out of the office.

They follow Garth through a door at the end of the hall. It takes Dean a second to realize they are outside, the early evening sun casting long shadows as it begins its descent. Dean looks around in wonder when a large metal object catches his attention.

“Is that… Is that Chopper 4?” He asks. Garth takes to long stride over to the helicopter, patting her lovingly.

“Sure is,” he beams. “Best traffic ‘copter in the city.”

“I remember how excited you got when I mentioned riding in it,” Cas says, glancing at Dean. “I thought you might enjoy a ride yourself.” Dean’s mouth goes completely dry. He looks at Cas, all sincere smiles and thoughtfulness. He swallows hard, trying to maintain an enthusiastic grin in spite of the abject terror slowly creeping over him.

“Yeah… that’s, uh… that’s so thoughtful, Cas,” Dean stammers, swallowing hard. “I… I don’t know what to say, that’s… that’s um, wow.” Cas’ expression falters and he looks at him carefully.

“Dean,” he says, “are you ok?”

“Yeah,” he nods vigorously. “I’m fantastic. I’m… I’m just super.” He flexes his finger nervously.

“Dean, you’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Cas asks with a wary look.

‘No, no, of course not,” Dean snorts. “I just… have a little bit of an issue… with… flying.” The last word comes out so quietly, Dean’s not even sure Cas hears him until a full two seconds pass and comprehension dawns on him.

Cas’ mouth drops open and he covers his eyes with his hands, groaning under his breath.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” he babbles. “Oh Fuck me, I am so sorry. I had no idea…”

“No, no, Cas. It’s fine,” Dean reassures, somehow not sounding reassuring at all.

“No, it’s not!” Cas moans. “I am so stupid. I should’ve asked first. This is so insensitive of me! If I had any idea you were afraid of flying-”

“I’m not afraid!” Dean states explicitly. “I have a perfectly logical reaction to being enclosed in a flying tin can.”

“Dean, I promise you you have nothing to fear in the air,” Garth reassures, slapping the side of the helicopter. “This traffic ‘copter has the best safety record in the state.”

“Didn’t is crash last year?!” Dean asks.

“Yes, but that wasn’t me. That was another pilot,” Garth states, very matter-of-factly. “He's dead now…. Oh, but not from the crash, from a heart attack. Which, come to think of it, _was_ a result of the crash...”

“Not helping, Garth,” Castiel says softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dean debates internally whether his need to fix this is greater than some irrational (according to Sam) fear. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and makes a decision.

“Cas, it’s ok. We can do this,” Dean says earnestly, lightly grabbing Castiel’s hand and pulling it away from his face so he can look him in the eye. “I know this was probably a lot of work to put together and I really appreciate that.” Cas looks at Dean worriedly.

“I mean it,” Dean continues. “Let’s… Let’s do this thing.” Cas’ face softens as Dean takes his hand and they walk towards the helicopter. Garth helps them into the cabin, showing them where their seatbelts are and other safety precautions. Dean tries to quell the roiling nervousness in his stomach.

“And Dean, don’t worry about if you get sick,” Garth says, handing Dean an air sickness bag. “You will not have been the first person to have yakked in Chopper 4.” He climbs into the cockpit and Cas squeezes Dean’s hand. Dean offers a shaky smile in return, eternally grateful for the bag clenched in his fist. Sam would never let him live it down if he were to puke on a date.

Garth slips on a headset and murmurs something into the radio. A high-pitched whine quickly grows louder as the rotor blades pick up speed, the repetitive “ _whap_ ” blending into a drone. Cas slips his hand into Dean’s once more. Dean glances at him. He opens his mouth, about to speak, when the aircraft lurches and they are lifting into the air.

“Oh God,” Dean mutters, clenching his eyes shut and squeezing Cas’ hand.

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas whispers, stroking a thumb over Dean’s knuckles. “We’re just lifting off.” Dean nods fast, but keeps his eyes shut. He can feel himself shift backwards as the aircraft quickly moves forward and a small whimper escapes his throat.

“Dean?” Cas says softly, pressing his shoulder closer to Dean. “Are you sure you’re alright? We can go back right now.”

“I’m fine,” Dean answers, voice tight. “I just…” He doesn’t finish his thought, inhaling sharply and the helicopter shifts to the right. Castiel’s hand covers Dean’s balled fists.

“Dean, Dean, it’s ok,” Cas says, his lips grazing Dean’s ear. In normal circumstances, he would find this arousing, but currently all the blood in his body is rushing to his heart, which is beating double-time.

“Dean, can you look at me?” Cas says softly. Dean shakes his head, unable to speak, unable to move. His entire body seems to be revolting on him; even his stomach is too tense to even give up it’s contents.

All at once, there are soft lips on his. It takes Dean a long moment to realize they are Castiel’s and another for him to kiss back. It’s soft and precarious; Castiel clearly being careful with him. It isn’t until Dean takes the initiative, slipping his tongue over Cas’ lips, begging for entrance, that it gets more heated. A soft moan rises from Cas’ throat and he instantly reciprocates, sliding his own tongue past Dean’s. Dean lets the air sickness bag fall from his hand so that he can run his fingers up the back of Castiel’s hair and cup his head. Dean can feel his heartbeat regulating as Cas’ hand moves from his forearm, up to his shoulder, pulling him slightly closer.

As Dean pulls back from the kiss, his eyes open. Through the windows of the helicopter, the city is spread out before them in a beautiful, golden haze, but Dean’s eyes are locked on Castiel’s shining blue ones.

“Wow,” Dean breathes. Cas’s face breaks into a bright grin.

“Better?” He asks. Dean laughs, letting his head drop.

“Dude, if that’s your way of relaxing me, I am totally on board with your methods.” Cas chuckles and a soft blush rises to his cheeks. He looks at Dean, about to say something, when Garth pipes up from the cockpit.

“We’re going over the river now,” he calls back. “It’s a helluva view!” Both Castiel and Dean look out the window, watching the setting sun glitter across the river as it winds through downtown.

Dean breathes easy, anchored by the feeling of Cas’ warm palm enclosed in his. Cas is enthralled with the view, staring unblinking out the window. Dean’s take the opportunity to consider Cas, taking in the nuances of how his face changes when he discovers something new and exciting. On a whim, he reaches out, tipping Cas’s chin toward him with one finger.

“Hey,’ he says softly. “Thank you for this.”

“For what? The ride or the kiss?” Castiel replies, his lips barely brushing Dean’s.

“Both,” he murmurs, shrugging lightly and capturing Castiel’s lips once more in a heady kiss. Castiel lets his eyes slip closed and sinks into Dean’s touch.

The rest of the flight is spent alternately admiring the view and ignoring it in favor of kissing. Dean’s grip on Castiel hand loosens enough so that he doesn’t worry about the other man having aneurysm out of anxiety. Dean let’s himself be thoroughly distracted by Castiel, but as soon as they touch down, he gratefully exits the aircraft on wobbly legs.

“Thanks again for this, Garth,” Castiel says, shaking his hand once more while supporting Dean on his other arm.

“Anytime, man,” Garth responds. “You two feel free to come back whenever.” Dean gives him a desperate look as Cas leads them back into the building.

“So burgers, then?” Castiel asks as they exit back onto the street. Dean gives a distraught laugh.

“You’re going to have to give me a few minutes,” Dean says, running a hand through his hair. “I think my stomach is still in my knees.”

“That’s fine,” Cas says. “We can wander around. Maybe Grab a drink first?” Castiel reaches out and takes Dean’s hand in his. Dean gives a watery smile and nods as he’s pulled down the street.

 

*******

They don’t make it to burgers, opting instead for barbecue from one of the food trucks at the edge of the river. They sit side by side, chatting between bites of ribs and cole slaw. At one point, Cas leans over and kisses a bit of sauce from the corner of Dean’s mouth, causing the other man to flush deeply and look away.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Cas pipes up, cleaning off his hands and grabbing his phone from his pocket. “I promised my sister-in-law I’d get a picture of you.”

“You what?” Dean says, mouth full of smoked pork.

“She, uh… She wants a photo to prove you’re hot.” Dean looks at him in disbelief. Castiel waves a hand and shrugs. “I may have mentioned you when I was there a few days ago,”

“This isn’t exactly the best time for a picture,” Dean reasons, giving him a pleading look. “I mean, look at me: I’ve got nervous pit stains, I’m covered in barbecue sauce-”

“And yet you’re still hotter than about 90% of the population,” Cas states, cutting him off. “It’s unequivocally unfair.” Dean quickly wipes down his face and grins as Castiel snaps a picture, demanding that he approve it before it’s sent out.

“So, now that we’ve spent an evening conquering _my_ fear,” Dean says, popping a corn fritter in his mouth, “I think next time it should be your turn.” Castiel takes a bit of a rib and raises an eyebrow in Dean’s direction.

“Is this your way of asking me out on a third date?” He inquires. Dean grins shyly and bites at his lip.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he says softly. “But like I said: Fears. What are you afraid of?” Castiel looks up, considering Dean’s question seriously.

“I’m afraid…” he starts, “that if I don’t kiss you right now, I may go insane.” Dean’s brows fly up and he laughs quietly in response.

“Will you now?” he asks, putting down a fork and wiping his hands with a napkin.

“Oh, yes,” Castiel assures, “clinically insane. It’s a very dangerous situation we have here.” For a second, Dean just looks at Castiel, wondering how a someone this amazing even exists, much less has an interest in him.

“Well, I guess we need to take care of that then,” Dean says, slowly leaning forward. “Y’know, for your sanity and all?”

“That’s very considerate of you,” Cas murmurs before Dean presses forward and kisses him like his life actually were at risk.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not know what kind of posting schedule this will have, but as I get ideas, I will go with them. 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look.. Plot.

Castiel absently types away on his computer, when Ava’s head pops up over the cubicle divider.

“You going to the staff meeting today, Cas?” She asks.

“It’s required, isn’t it?” He replies, not looking away from the screen.

“Yeah, but they’re making a big announcement today,” Ava says, a devious glint in her eye. Castiel stops typing and looks at her. “We’re getting a major blast from the past.”

“What are you talking about?” He asks turning his chair in her direction.

“A certain someone is returning to the anchor desk,” Ava says in a sing-song voice. “I’ll give you three guesses.” Castiel’s expression falls. He knows exactly who she is talking about. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn't be talking to Castiel at all.

“Oh no,” he murmurs. “Why? I thought he was in New York?”

“Well, I guess when you forget that you’re miked and call a congressman a ‘festering twatwaffle’, your job security gets thrown out the window.” Castiel looks at her in shock.

“He did what!?” Castiel exclaims, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Oh my god! You didn’t know?!” Ava shouts, causing several other heads to pop up over the cubicle dividers and take notice. “How did you not know? It’s been like the biggest video on Youtube for weeks. Just google ‘news anchor twatwaffle’.” Castiel wants to comment that it might be a first for google when their executive producer Chuck passes by his cubicle, banging on the wall.

“Staff meeting, guys,” he says. “We’ve got a lot to cover. Let’s get a move on.” Castiel grabs his ledger and a pen and follows his boss and Ava into the large conference room.

It’s packed with people, more so than usual. Castiel squeezes in next to Ava and the other segment producers as Chuck begins the meeting.

He can’t help thinking about what Ava said. They wouldn’t let him come back, right? After everything that went down? He dreads the thought of being in the same room with him, or worse, having to do a story together. Castiel cringes at the thought. He prays that Ava was exaggerating. She love to gossip and will believe almost anything anyone tells her, like that time Gabriel convinced her that she’d fry her hard drive if she googled “Google.”

The staff meeting passes without incident, Chuck distributing assignments amongst the group, and Castiel is about to breath a sigh of relief when there is a knock on the conference room door. Chuck looks up, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Perfect timing,” Chuck says, waving someone into the room. Everyone turns to see who it is. As he does, Castiel feels like the floor drops out from under him.

“Everyone, we have some wonderful news,” Chuck continues. “Bartholomew Harris has come back to Jacksonville and he will be returning to the anchor desk this week. I hope everyone has a chance to welcome him back.” There is a soft murmuring amongst the group. Bartholomew stands there, looking typically non-plussed. Castiel attempts to look busy, hurriedly scribbling something on his pad, but he can feel the other man’s eyes boring into him.

As Chuck dismisses the meeting, Castiel scurries out, rushing back to his desk. He hopes that Bartholomew will be too busy catching up to notice, but as soon as he arrives back at his desk a familiar, expertly-quaffed head of hair is there to meet him.

“Hey there, Castiel,” Bartholomew drawls. He looks the same as he did 8 months ago: perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect complexion, exactly what the typical news anchor should look like. His smile is bright and genuine, and there was a time when that same smile had Cas melting where he stood. That was a long time ago, though. Castiel steels himself as he approaches his desk.

“Hello, Bartholomew,” he says coolly. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” he replies with a nod. “It’s nice to be back home.”

“I’m sure it is,” Castiel mumbles. He presses past Bartholomew into his cube, hoping he might take a hint. Instead, the other man just spins on his heel and watches Castiel, leaning against the wall comfortably.

“How have you been, Cas?” Bartholomew smiles lasciviously and Cas feels like he can read his mind.

“Fine,” Cas offers curtly, unlocking his computer. He knows Bartholomew is waiting for him to say something more, but Cas won’t give him the satisfaction. After the way things ended, the last thing he wants is history repeating itself. Especially if he plans on continuing things with Dean.

“That’s great to hear,” Bartholomew replies. “You know, I thought about you a lot in New York. There’s so much there you would just love.” Castiel grits his teeth and stares intently at his computer.

“What do you want?” He mutters, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I just want to talk,” Bartholomew replies with a shrug. “Thought we could get together, grab a meal, maybe a drink-”

“No,” Cas says flatly.

“Cas, c’mon-”

“Bartholomew, the answer is no.” His voice is firm and unwavering. Castiel can see him flinch minutely, the mask of geniality wavering for a moment.

“Why are you angry, Cas?” He asks sincerely. Castiel gapes at him in disbelief, dumbfounded by the gall of this man.

“Are you honestly asking me that?” Cas hisses. “After everything you did?”

“I did?!” Bartholomew asks in surprise. “You’re the one who dumped me, remember?”

“And you’re the one who couldn’t handle it like a fucking adult, _Remember_?” Castiel reminds him, much louder than intended. The volume level of their conversation is beginning to attract attention and Castiel can see the top of Ava’s head popping up over the divider wall. For the first time, the smile falls from Bartholomew’s expression. He opens his mouth to speak, when Castiel’s phone graciously begins to ring, _Dean_ coming to life on the screen

“Excuse me,” Castiel stands and exits the cubicle. “I need to take this.” He dashes down the aisle toward the exit door, answering the phone as soon as he pushes through it.

“Hello, Dean,” he says, surprised by his relief as soon as he hear’s Dean’s voice.

“Hey Cas,” Dean replies. “I’m sorry to be bothering you at work-”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Castiel assures him. “What’s going on?”

“Um, are you working tonight?”

“Not currently,” Cas answers as he mills about the hallway. He glances out the window at the glittering river winding through the city. “Why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner,” Dean says. “I was planning on lighting up the grill, cooking a couple of steaks.”

“That sounds wonderful, Dean,” Cas says genuinely, leaning against a window. “Do you want me to bring anything?”

“Just you,” he replies. “I get off work at 5:30. What do you say to 7?”

“That sounds perfect. I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll text you my address,” Dean offers. They say their goodbyes and Castiel is sure his blush is radiating down to his toes. He hangs up and turns, unexpectedly startling at Bartholomew standing in the doorway.

“Who’s Dean?” He asks, a humorless smile spread across his face. Castiel stands silent, weighing the consequences if he answers or not.

“It’s none of your concern.” He finally answers moving past him and back into the newsroom.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Bartholomew follows after him.

“Again, none of your concern,” Castiel repeats, not looking back. He finds his desk and attempts to get back to work as Bartholomew sidles up to the doorway.

“Well then, who is he?” he interrogates.

“Why do you feel the need to know?” Castiel huffs, remembering what a frustrating asshole Bartholomew could be.

“Just need to know who my competition is,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug. Castiel laughs bitterly.

“Oh my God! There is _no_ competition here!” he cackles. “My love life is not a game, and even if it were, you would not even _rank_ as a contender!” Bartholomew frowns deeply, creases flawing his features.

“Castiel, c’mon! As a friend-”

“We’re not friends!” Castiel finally snaps. “You made that very clear to me when you broke your promise and then broke my confidence! What I do in my free time is 100% none of your fucking business!” It’s clear that he has gotten most of the newsroom’s attention, and Bartholomew looks taken aback by the outburst.

“Now if you don’t mind,” Castiel collects himself, smoothing down his dress shirt, “some of us have to work a little harder than just looking good for the camera!” He can hear Ava’s giggle from beyond the partition and Bartholomews offended expression has him holding back his own grin.

The anchor tromps off without another word and Castiel exhales in relief to be rid of him, finally able to get back to work.

 

*******

 

Dean is carefully mixing marinade for tonight’s steaks when his cell phone chimes a text alert. He wipes his hands and picks up his phone. Sam’s name is emblazoned across screen with four words written beneath it: “I am so sorry”.

“What?’ Dean wonders aloud, confused as to what his brother means when his phone comes to life “Mom Calling” flashing across the screen.

“Hey, Mom,” Dean says as he answers the phone.

“Hi, Sweetie. It’s so nice to hear from you.” His mother’s voice is tinged with a hint of playful sarcasm. His parents don’t live that far, just a few hours south in St. Petersburg, but Dean doesn’t visit as often as he probably should. Nor does he call often enough for his mom’s taste.

“So how are things?” She asks. Dean knows this is Mary Winchester’s code for “Have you met someone?” but Dean’s not biting. Not today.

“Good. Things are good,” Dean says, walking into his living room. “We have state exams coming up. You know how much of a pain in the ass prepping for those are?”

“Uh-huh,” Mary mumbles dismissively, clearly not getting what she’s looking for. “Anything else?”

“I think I may need to replace the transmission on the Impala,” Dean answers. “Can you ask dad to talk to Bobby. Maybe he can find one in the junkyard-”

“Dean,” his mother cuts him off, her tone serious. Dean sigh and crashes down on his sofa.

“What, mom?” He ask resignedly.

“I spoke to Sam earlier.”

“Yeah?” Dean tries not to sound too obvious that he is very aware of that fact.

“He mentioned that you’re seeing someone?” Mary’s utter shock is evident in her voice and Dean feels slightly insulted by this for some reason.

“I think Sam in exaggerating,” Dean answers, trying to keep his tone light. “We’ve been on two dates. That’s all.”

“Two dates with the same person, though?”

“Yes, Mom,” Dean laughs.

“Well, all relationships have to start somewhere,” Mary reassures. “Now, tell me about her.” Dean stiffens at that, unsure of whether or not to correct his mom.

“Mom,” Dean hesitates as he tries to think of what to say next, “there’s nothing to tell. We’ve only been on a couple dates!”

“So you’re dating then?” She asks hopefully. Dean scrubs a hand down his face in exasperation.

“Why do you do this, mom?” He mumbles.

“Do what?”

This,” Dean emphasizes. “You get all… loopy when you think I’ve met someone.”

“I’m am not _loopy_ , Dean Winchester,” Mary hisses, irritation clearly evident in her voice.

“Fine, not loopy, but… You get excited ok? Every time I start seeing someone, you automatically start asking if they’re ‘the one?’ and ‘When I’m going to introduce you?’”

“I do not do that!” Mary insists, “and even if I did, what’s wrong with wanting to see my children happy?”

“Nothing, Mom, but it’s stressing me out.” Dean admits, walking into the kitchen. “We’ve seen each other twice. That’s it! I don’t even know if we’re actually dating yet.” It’s a lie, Dean knows. He already feels like part of a couple, even if he and Castiel haven’t discussed it. He pulls the steaks from the meat drawer and opens up the package.

“Dean, I know I may seem a bit… eager, but it’s only because I care about you,” Mary sighs heavily. “But I trust that, if this girl turns out to be something special, you will bring her over for dinner as soon as possible.” Dean cringes at the word “girl”, but still doesn’t correct her.

"Anyway honey, I’m just calling to say hi and… Oh, your dad just walked through the door. Do you want to talk to him about the Impala?” Dean sighs and agrees and his mom hands the phone over.

Dean and his dad chat for a few more minutes as he finishes marinating the steaks and placing them back in the fridge. As he says his “goodbyes” to his dad, Dean leans over the kitchen counter and rubs his eyes. A pang of guilt settles in his stomach for fibbing to his parents about seeing a girl rather than a guy. He never outright said Cas wasn’t a girl, but it’s still lying by omission.

Dean doesn’t think his mom will have a problem with it; his mother is the most accepting soul Dean has ever met. His father, though, would be less enthusiastic on the matter. Dean couldn’t imagine the look on his ex-Marine father’s face if he brought Cas over for dinner, their hands intertwined.

Dean huffs to himself. It’s too early to think about this. He’s just getting himself spun up over what, in fact, might not be an issue. He picks up his phone and scrolls through his ‘recent calls’ list, dialing Sam.

“You son of a bitch,’ Dean mutters angrily into the phone as soon Sam picks up.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam rambles. “Mom just started in about when Jess and I are going to get married and I panicked. I needed to deflect!”

“By throwing me under the bus!?” Dean argues. “Great job, Benedict Cumberbatch!”

“I think you mean Benedict Arn-”

“I don’t care, Sam!” Dean interupts. “You owe me big time, you know that?” Sam is quiet on the other end.

“So what did you tell her?” Sam asks after a moment. Dean groans.

“I told her she’s jumping the gun,” he replies. “I mean it’s only been two dates, there’s no need for her to start picking out china patterns. This relationship, or whatever it is, will happen on its own.”

“Did you happen to mention that Cas is a guy?” Sam inquires.

“I kind of avoided that topic,” Dean admits, rubbing at his neck.

“How come?” Sam asks. “Mom wouldn’t care.”

“You’re right. She wouldn’t,” Dean agrees, “but she would tell Dad.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” Sam scoffs.

“Yea, she would, Sam!”

“What makes you think that?” Sam asks.

“Because Mom has infinite more faith in Dad than either of us,” Dean says sadly. Sam hums in agreement; Mary’s unshakeable good nature bordered on naivety at times, especially when it came to John Winchester.

“Well, if this goes on much longer, you’re going to have to tell her,” Sam reminds him. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well, I’ll stick a pin in that ‘til then, ok?” Dean heaves himself upright. He spots the potatoes on the counter and checks the clock on the stove; he has just enough time before Cas gets here. “I hate to cut this short Sam, but I have some cooking to do.”

“Is Cas coming over?” Sam teases. In spite of himself, Dean grins shyly.

“He is, as a matter of fact,” Dean replies. “I’ll talk to you later Sammy. You owe me, don’t forget!” They hang up and Dean slips his phone in his back pocket. He turn on the kitchen sink, plucking up a pair of potatoes and scrubbing them clean under the running water.

 

*******

  
  
A few minutes before 7 there is a knock on the front door. Dean is just taking the baked potatoes from the oven. He quickly sets them on the counter and throws off his oven mitts and heads to answer the door.

As he opens it, Dean can’t help smiling at the site of a slightly-disheveled, but happy, Castiel standing in his doorway.

“Hello Dean,” he greets as he steps inside, taking a second before deciding to step forward and press a soft kiss to Dean’s lips. Dean kisses back chastely, his hands coming up to Cas’s arms and holding him in place.

“Hi,” Dean mumbles as Cas pulls away a few scant inches. He lets his hands fall, capturing one of Castiel’s as it does. “C’mon, everything’s almost ready.” They walk through Dean’s living room toward the kitchen. The TV is on with the volume low, muted action happening across the screen. Castiel stops short as he see Bartholomew’s beaming face looking back at him. His face goes blank and he feels his irritation from earlier roiling in his gut.

“You have it on the news,” Cas says absently. Dean glances at Cas and then at the TV.

“I guess it is,” he mumbles. “Wasn’t really paying attention. Just had it on for the noise.” Castiel jaw clenches minutely and he looks at Dean.

“Would you mind if we changed the channel?” He asks, trying to keep the plea out of his voice, “I just… I don’t…”

“Want to get away from work, huh?” Dean supplies. Castiel exhales and nods in relief. Dean picks the remote up off the couch and switches off the TV, before turning to Cas with a warm smile.

“Let’s get those steaks on the grill.” Castiel follows Dean into the kitchen, where he takes a proffered beer, and then out to the balcony. The evening is long and warm, a sign of the summer to come. Castiel relaxes in his chair, letting the tension of the day seep from his bones as he quietly sips his beer and watches Dean carefully set two steaks on the grill.

Dinner is nothing short of amazing. Castiel can’t help groaning a little at his first bite, much to Dean’s pleasure.

“Good then?” He asks.

“Fourth date, you’re cooking again,” Castiel mumbles happily between bites. “You still owe me burgers.” Dean eyes light up at the mention of another date and he tucks into his own food. They chat idly as they eat. The conversation is easy, but Castiel is distracted. His interaction with Bartholomew hangs at the forefront of his mind.

“You doing ok?” Dean asks. “You seem uneasy about something.”

“Just work things,” he replies. It’s not really a lie, but he knows he feels dishonest saying it. Dean watches him for a moment and it’s clear that he doesn’t entirely believe Castiel.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Dean asks gently. Cas looks up at him before reaching out and squeezing his hand.

“Not.. right now,” Cas replies. “Maybe later, ok?” Dean nods and rises from the table, grabbing up their empty plates. Cas follows him into the kitchen, watching as Dean cleans off the dishes and deposits them in the washer.

“Um… are we dating?” The questions comes out of nowhere and it catches Castiel off guard. He opens his mouth to answer but then closes it again.

“I mean, are we like exclusive?” Dean clarifies. “I don’t know if you want to see anyone else-”

“Yes, Dean we’re dating,” Castiel cuts him off with a soft laugh. Dean smiles bashfully and nods. “Why are you asking?” Dean looks up, pressing his lips together into a hard line.

“I talked to my mom today. More specifically I was grilled by my mom about my love life,” he admits. “My brother let it slip that I was seeing someone.”

“Oh,” Castiel says, “and you wanted confirmation of that fact?” A wry smile plays at his lips.

“Well, yeah,” Dean says with a snort, “um… She said she wants to meet you.” Castiel’s brows draw together, but Dean holds up his hands in a placating gesture.

“I know, I know, it’s very soon, and I told her as much,” Dean assures. “But that’s her go-to response whenever I’m in a relationship.”

“No, it’s sweet. It sounds like she’s looking out for you,” Cas says, taking a step towards Dean and clasping his hands. “And whenever you want to introduce us, I’m game.” Dean sighs gratefully and lets his head fall onto Cas’ shoulder. They stand there for a long moment in the peaceful calm of the kitchen, the muffled sound of osprey calls audible through the window. Cas rubs his thumbs lightly along the top of Dean hands and he can feel Dean nuzzle softly into his neck.

“There is one more thing I should tell you,” Dean lifts his head up and looks Cas in the eye; his expression is not reassuring. “My mom’s exact words were _‘if this girl is something special, you’ll bring her over as soon as possible’_.” Castiel frowns in confusion, not quite understanding what Dean is saying, when it dawns on him.

“Dean,” he starts slowly, “if you told your family I’m a woman, then I have vital information I probably should share with you.” Dean shakes his head emphatically.

“I never mentioned a gender,” he insists, rubbing at his forehead. “I just never corrected her when she did.” Castiel considers him intently; it’s clear Dean is embarrassed of his behavior, but he is more curious as to why.

“Are you… are you not out to your family?” Cas asks. He’s had flings with closeted guys in the past, but those were always solely-sexual things where words like “exclusive” and “relationship” weren’t tossed around. Dean lightly bites at his lip, avoiding Castiel’s eye.

“It’s not that I’m not _out_ ,” he begins. “It’s just that… until this point it was a non-issue. I’ve always known what I liked, and I’ve never made a secret of it, but I’ve never…” He trails off. Cas rubs his shoulder lightly.

“You’ve never been in a relationship with a man?” He supplies. Dean shakes his head. “Do you think they’d… not be accepting?” Castiel can’t hide the tinge of worry in his words. It’s clear that Dean cares a lot for his family and what they think, and part of Castiel worries that he would be dropped if they didn’t approve.

“Sam already knows,” Dean replies. “Apparently, he’s _always_ known. My mom would probably be surprised, but supportive once she got used to the idea. My dad, though…” Dean doesn’t finish his thought, looking away glumly. Castiel takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and letting them hang there languidly.

“Hey, whatever you want to do ok?” He offers. “If you want to keep this under wraps until-”

“I don’t.” Dean says seriously. “I don’t want to keep you underwraps. I like you a lot and I don’t want to pretend you don’t exist. I want to introduce you to my family, as my _boyfriend_ , at the same point in a relationship as I would with a girl.

“I know this is an uncomfortable conversation, but I want to be honest with you.” Dean smiles at Cas, “you deserve that. You don’t deserve to be hidden.” Castiel grins shyly and he can feel Dean’s finger tipping his chin up for a kiss.

They kiss lazily, Cas pressing into Dean against the counter. Dean’s cools fingers trail underneath the hem of Cas’ untucked dress shirt, causing a shiver to run through him. He sighs and deepens it, tightening his hold around Dean’s neck. Dean responds in kind, pulling Cas’ hips in closer until he can feel the hard outline of Dean’s shaft through the layers of fabric between them.

“You know,” Dean mumbles against Cas’ lips as he pulls away from the kiss, “I could do this all night, but I did make us some pie for dessert.” Cas laughs to himself and rests his forehead against Dean’s.

“Do you always cook like this?” he asks. Dean squeezes his sides and shrugs.

“Only for people who are amazing,” he says. Cas goes in for one more small kiss before Dean presses him away to get the pie from the fridge.

They spend the rest of the evening eating pie, watching movies and intermittently making out. At one point Castiel slots his leg between Dean’s, earning a low groan from the man before he pulls back, mumbling something like “better slow down.”

Castiel settles in-between Dean’s legs, his back against Dean’s chest as they watch the rest of the movie. It isn’t long before he feels the steady rise and fall of Dean’s breathing and glances behind him to see Dean passed out cold.   
Castiel smiles to himself sadly. Being with Dean is just so easy and uncomplicated, but his relationship with Bartholomew had started the same way and look where that went. Castiel has to force himself to shake those thoughts from his head. Nothing good comes from comparing your past relationships to your current one.

Castiel curls deeper into Dean’s embrace, letting himself enjoy this moment a little longer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still unsure of where this is going, but I have some semblance of a plot forming (possibly smut as well, so rating might change).


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, has it really been that long since I updated? I suck, sorry. As a consolation, please notice the rating change (Here be smut)

The bell rings loudly, interrupting Dean in the middle of his lesson.

“Alright everyone, have a great day,” he calls out over the noise of chairs scraping and kids talking. “Don’t forget to finish chapter six tonight. There is a handout on my desk with some essay questions due tomorrow. _No credit if they are late_!” There is an audible groan from a few of the students, but everyone still takes a copy of the worksheet.

As the last students mill out of the room, Dean spots Charlie leaning against the doorframe.

“Lunch?” She asks.

“Are you buying?” Dean raises a curious eyebrow as he grabs his jacket of out the small cabinet by the door. Charlie rolls her eyes.

“Yeah right, Winchester,” she sighs sarcastically. “It’ll be a cold day in hell when that happens.” Dean snorts as he switches off the lights and locks up his classroom. They walk along the outdoor path, waving at familiar students as they pass.

“So, I think Dorothy and I are going to try out this Firefly RPG she found,” Charlie says. “We’re thinking Friday night. You in?” Dean is about to say yes, when he remembers that he and Cas had already made plans. He bites at his lip and shakes his head.

“Can’t do it Charlie,” he says. “Already have plans.” Charlie frowns as they make their way through the parking lot to the Impala.

“Seriously?” She asks. “Like a date or something?”

“Yeah,” Dean insists. “Why? Is that hard to believe or something.” Charlie shakes her head innocently.

“No. no…  It’s just normally, you’re willing to ditch a date for game night.” She says, opening the Impala door and settling into the seat.

“I do not!” Dean insists, offended by the idea. He cranks the engine, shifts into gear and steers the impala out of the staff parking lot. Charlie shoots him a withering look.

“You kinda do,” she says. “So who is she? The woman so magical you’re willing to ditch your best friend?” Dean bites at the inside of his cheek. If anyone would appreciate honesty in this situation, it’s Charlie.

“Not a she, actually,” Dean admits. He glances at Charlie out of the corner of his eye. She’s looking at him in wide-eyed disbelief before whooping loudly and flailing around wildly, almost hitting Dean’s face in excitement.

“Oh My Fucking God! Seriously!?” Charlie squeals. “I knew it! I always knew you swung both ways! Ask Dorothy, I’ve said it like a million times!” Dean holds out a hand, attempting to calm her.

“Bring it down a notch, geez,” He says. “Yes, I’m dating a guy, it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?!” Charlie gasps. “Dean, this is amazing! I can finally make a push for starting a Gay Straight Alliance at school.” Dean groans. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen.

“Charlie, please,” he begs. “I’m not doing this as some sort of political statement. And I really don’t want my students being familiar with my personal life.” Charlie frowns deeply.

“Dean, Roman said we couldn’t establish a GSA unless we had two teachers willing to sponsor it,” Charlie states. “And seeing as we are deeply in the heart of the Bible Belt-”

“I would hardly call Florida the Bible Belt,” Dean argues. He pulls into the parking lot of the cafe.

“Either way, we’re not exactly in the most supportive community for students outside of the sexual norm.” Charlie continues, “they need someone they can look to. You’re already a popular teacher, and your participation would be amazing.” Dean switches off the engine and glances at her.

“No one else was willing to be a co-sponsor?’ He asks. Charlie shakes her head.

“Lee Chambers was going to last year, but then he got that offer in Savannah,” she sighs. She looks up at him with big pleading eyes. Dean exhales heavily.

“Charlie, I’m willing to help on one condition,” he barters. “You do not tell any of our students details of my personal life.”

“Sure thing,” Charlie nods enthusiastically. “They’ll just think that you’re the ‘Straight’ part in ‘Gay Straight Alliance.’” Dean snorts and exits the car. He and Charlie walk toward the cafe. Charlie rushes ahead of Dean, grabbing the door handle before him and holding it open. Dean nods and finds their usual table near the window.

“So?” Charlie asks, sliding into the booth and picking up a menu. “Spill.”

“Hmm?” Dean asks, scanning the menu as well.

“Details,” Charlie says. “Tell me about this guy.” Dean shrugs.

“What do you want to know?” Charlie rolls her eyes.

“Duh, everything,” she replies. The waitress approaches the table and they both place their orders. As soon as she leaves, Charlie levels her gaze at Dean.

“His name is Cas,” he begins. “He works for action news. He’s… really smart and funny. He likes board games-”

“Boardgames?” Charlie perks up.

“Yeah.”

“You should totally bring him Friday night!” She squeaks.

“What?”

“Bring him Friday to the RPG!” Charlie says excitedly, bouncing in her seat and nearly knocking into the waitress trying to set down her drink.

“Charlie, we already have plans,” Dean sighs.

“Which are?”

“Burgers,” Dean answers, although he knows that won’t be enough to stop her.

“Which I can make at my house,” Charlie says. “C’mon Dean! It would be so much fun! You bring Cas, Dorothy and I will cook. We’ll play, we’ll drink…”

“Charlie, please don’t take this the wrong way,” Dean groans, rubbing at his eye, “but I’d prefer not to throw all of my crazy at my boyfriend all at once.”

“Oh c’mon, it’s not… wait,” Charlie glares at Dean. “Did you say boyfriend?” Dean nods and sips at his drink.

“How long you guys been going out?” Charlie raises a brow and takes a sip of her own drink.

“Few weeks,” he shrugs.

“Using the B-word already, huh Winchester?” Dean smiles to himself.

“He’s special,” Dean admits, “and I don’t want to scare him off. So that’s why I need to introduce him to you, Sam and my mother in small doses.” Charlie grins and shakes her head.

“Dean Winchester,” Charlie raises her left hand and places her right hand over her heart. “I solemnly swear on my original Frank Miller ‘Dark Knight’ comics that I will keep my crazy in check in the presence of your boyfriend. Please, just call and ask, ok? If he’s into board games, I guarantee he’s played at least one RPG.” Dean sighs; he knows Charlie isn’t going to give up until she gets her way and honestly, he is dying to share Cas with someone.

“Alright,” he says, “I’ll ask him. But I make no promises, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“Yay!” Charlie claps her hands enthusiastically and Dean snorts to himself. If Cas can handle Charlie and Dorothy, his parents should be no problem right?

 

*******

 

If Castiel thought his outburst would dissuade Bartholomew, he was sorely mistaken.

He is zoned into his current project, eyes glued to his computer screen, when his next assignment lands on his desk with a ‘thwap’. Castiel glances at it absently, frowning when he notices something. He grabs the folder and exits his cubicle.

“Hey!” He calls out, chasing after Chuck. “Hey, Stop!” Chuck stops in his tracks and turns. Castiel holds up the file folder.

“What is this?” He asks, face pinched.

“Your next assignment,” Chuck deadpans, crossing his arms in front of him.

‘Yeah, but why does it say ‘Bartholomew?’” Castiel asks. “I only ever work with Naomi or Rachel.” Chuck sighs.

“He requested you,” he answers. “Said it was vital to the story. I learned long ago not to argue with the talent.” Before Castiel can say another word, Chuck turns on his heel and walks off. Cas watches him walk away, standing awkwardly in the aisle.

He heads back to his cubicle to find Bartholomew leaning against the wall.

_Fucking perfect._

“What do you want?” Castiel hisses, brushing past him.

“We have a segment to work on,” Bartholomew says, holding up his own file folder. “Thought we could discuss some things, get a head start.” Castiel rolls his eyes; he cannot believe this guy’s nerve.

“When have you ever done segments?” Cas asks sarcastically. “I thought you said they were ‘beneath you.’” Bartholomew gives Cas a pained smile.

“I’m working up from the bottom here,” he says. “My exit wasn’t exactly graceful, and I need to play nice. Boss says I’m doing segments, I’m doing segments.” Castiel shakes his head; he remembers Bartholomew’s exit too well.

“Castiel, I’m sorry,” Bartholomew says, “about what happened last week.” Castiel tenses and he notices Ava’s head peeking over the cubicle wall.

“If you want to talk about this, can we go someplace more private?” He says in a low voice. Bartholomew nods and starts walking toward the exit door. Castiel rises from his desk and follows him. He finds him standing in the elevator bay.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“Look,” Castiel hisses, cutting him off, “what you did last week was entirely inappropriate!”

“I know,” Bartholomew says, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I know, I was out of line.”

“You have no idea how out of line you were!” Cas barks. “Especially when you start interrogating me about my boyfriend-”

“So it is your boyfriend, then?”

“It doesn’t matter who he is!” Castiel growls. He quickly recomposed himself, “I don’t think we should be working together.” Bartholomew frowns.

“Castiel-” Cas holds up a hand.

“With our history, it’s better that we don’t,” he says calmly.

“But you’re the best here,” Bartholomew holds his hands out resignedly. Cas shakes his head.

“You know that’s not true,” he counters. “You said as much when you left.” Bartholomew looks away ashamed, clearly remembering the words he wrote.

“Look, I know we can never go back to what we had before,” he sighs. “I screwed that up, I know, but I’d… I did like working with you, Castiel. I would like to at least reestablish some sort of working relationship... Please.” He looks at Castiel so sincerely. In the entire time they were together, he doesn’t think he ever saw Bartholomew look so contrite.

“Alright,” Castiel says after a moment. “Working relationship. That’s it. If you even begin to ask about my personal life-”

“Understood,” Bartholomew agrees, holding his hands up again. “Thank you, Castiel. Really.” Both men move to return to the office when Castiel feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. He hangs back as Bartholomew pushes through the door. He pulls his phone out, glancing at the screen and smiling when he sees Dean’s name lit up across it.

“Hello, Dean,” He answers. “What’s going on?”

“Hi Cas,” Dean says. “So um… One of the other teachers here that I’m friends with does this role-playing game thing, and she invited me to it tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Cas says carefully, assuming that the cancellation of their date is coming next.

“I told her I had a date,” Dean continues, “and… she asked me to invite you as well.” Castiel furrows his brow.

“She invited me?” Cas asks. “Does she know who I am?”

“Yeah, I told her about you,” Dean explains. “Listen, if you don’t want to do this, I am entirely willing to tell her no. Charlie’s a little… intense.”

“I would love to, Dean,” Cas replies.

“Really?” Dean asks. “You want to spend a Friday night playing an RPG? Do you even know what that is?”

“Of Course, Dean,” he snorts, “I played Magic the Gathering in high school. I’d love to meet your friends.”

“Oh, ok,” Dean replies. “Um, I’ll pick you up at the same time, ok?”

“Alright.” Castiel can’t help the smile spreading across his face. Just talking to Dean has already made the day better. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good-Bye.” Dean bids him good-bye and hangs up. Cas stares at his phone for a moment, still grinning, before putting it back in his pocket and walking back to the office.

Bartholomew watches as Castiel pushes through the office door, frowning to himself. He doesn’t know who the hell this Dean guy is, but he knows he already doesn’t like him.

 

*******

 

“I don’t understand why they give you the option for psychic abilities if you can’t be as strong as River,” Dean gripes as he browses through the guide. “That’s a crock.”

“It’s so the playing field is level, Dean,” Charlie says, setting a plate of jalapeno poppers on the table. “They’re fresh from the oven. Be careful.” Dean’s eyes brighten at the food and Cas can’t hide a laugh as Dean pops one in his mouth and begins flailing in pain.

“She warned you, Winchester,” Dorothy snorts, as she takes a pull off of her beer. Dean takes a long drink from his own bottle, sighing in relief.

“Laughing at my pain,” Dean mutters, shaking his head. “I thought better of you, Cas.” Cas chuckles lightly.

“You just burned your tongue,” he says. “If you want, I can kiss it and make it better?” Dean’s eyes light up.

“Yes, please,” he says with a grin, leaning into Cas. They kiss softly, and Dean can hear Charlie making a soft, high-pitched noise at the sight.

“Alright,” Dorothy says. “Enough of this lovey-dovey shit. Let’s get down to business.”

“So, Cas,” Charlie says, sitting down next to Dorothy. “Do you have any questions? Dean says you’ve played RPGs before.”

“Yeah, but it’s been several years,” Cas says, glancing down at his notes. “Um… I not sure I understand the jobs. What is a companion?”

“You know” Dean says, “like Inara.”

“Um, yeah… Who is that again?” Castiel asks, tilting his head to the side. Dean would think it’s adorable if he wasn’t  completely floored.

“Cas,” Dean starts. “You have seen ‘Firefly’, Right?” Cas shakes his head slightly. Charlie and Dorothy both stare at him dumbfounded before Charlie silently rises to her feet and walks from the dining room to the living room.

“Wait… where is she going?” Cas asks, craning his neck. Dean chuckles and takes Cas’ hand.

“Now you’ve done it,” he says warmly.

“We have to watch it!” Charlie calls out from the living room. “You have to see the whole thing before you play or it won’t make a lick of sense.”

“But I don’t understand,’ Cas says, rising from his chair and following Dean and Dorothy into the other room. “If we’re making our own ships, what does it matter if-” He’s cut off as Dean and Dorothy shake their heads and make cutting gestures across their necks. Charlie turns to face him, DVDs in both hands, eyes wide and passionate.

“Ok, I know we can’t do it all tonight,” she says quickly, “but we can at least get through the first two episodes _with_ time for questions, and trust me, you _will_ have some.” Cas glances at Dean, raising an eyebrow, but he just shakes his head. Dean pulls Castiel to the overstuffed loveseat and nestles the other man under his arm.

“Like I said,” Dean murmurs in his ear, “Charlie’s a little intense.” Cas snuggles closer to Dean.

“I like her,” he says, watching the redhead set the DVD player up before bounding to the couch next to her girlfriend. “She’s nice.” Charlie claps her hands twice and the lights switch off.

“You have a clapper?!” Dean asks. “What, are you like 70?”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Dorothy counters. Charlie shushes both of them as the episode begins.

 

*******

 

They are halfway through “The Train Job”, when Dean looks up and notices Charlie and Dorothy both asleep, head’s leaning against one another. He glances down at Cas, still curled against his side, watching the TV with rapt attention.

“Our hosts have crashed,” Dean whispers, nodding his head in the girls’ direction. Cas looks over and nods.

“Yeah, they have. Guess that’s our cue, huh?” He says. He and Dean rise from the loveseat, stretching audibly. Without warning, Dean reaches out and brushes his fingers over the sliver of skin revealed as Castiel’s shirt pulls up. Cas gasps a soft laugh and curls in.

“That tickles,” he murmurs. Dean reaches out and holds Cas by the waist, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Cas moans softly as Dean’s tongue slips past his own.

“Been wanting to do that all night,” Dean mumbles when he pulls away. Cas hums in agreement and leans in for a kiss once more, before a noise behind him stops him.

“What’s going on?” Charlie mumbles sleepily, sitting up on the chair.

“We’re going to get out of here, Charlie,” Dean says. “Let you and Dorothy get to bed.” Charlie and Dorothy both stand and give Cas and Dean hugs. Charlie fiddles with the DVD player, plucking the disk out and putting it back in the case.

“Watch it!” She insists, pressing the DVD case into Cas’ chest, “then come back and play.” Cas smiles and nods as Dean leads him out the door.

They drive in comfortable silence toward Cas’ house, Cas’ hand entwined with Dean’s. He watches the scenery pass by, recollecting details of the evening. He is amazed with how comfortable Dean was introducing him to his friends; the only issue being if Cas would comfortable with them. For someone who’s only just coming out, as it were, Dean seems remarkably nonchalant about everything.

“Spit it out,” Dean says.

“What?”

“You look like you’re deep in thought,” Dean glances to the side, “and then you keep looking at me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“You don’t seem stressed out about any of this,” Cas answers.

“Any of what?”

“Introducing me to your friends,” Cas says. Dean chuckles and shakes his head.

“You mean like me introducing the guy I’m dating to my friends?” Dean asks, receiving a nod from Cas. “Charlie is the last person I’d be uncomfortable with about that. Don’t get me wrong, there are a few people where I’ll need to psych myself up before I bring you over-”

“Like you family?” Cas supplies.

“Yup,” Dean answers as they pull onto Cas’ street, “but I meant what I said Cas: I don’t want to hide you away. If I need to be embarrassed about my sexuality or who I am… What’s the fucking point?” Cas smiles and brings Dean’s knuckles up to his lips for a kiss. He pulls up in front of Cas’ house, parking the car and turning off the engine.

“Thank you, Dean.” He says again. Dean moves down the bench seat, leaning in closer and capturing Cas’ lips with his own. Cas inhales deeply, responding to the kiss. He breathes in the leather and musk scent of Dean as he winds his arms around his neck. Dean presses him further back until the door handle is pressed into his side.

Dean’s hands travel under his coat, winding around his back. Dean’s lips pull off Castiel’s and trail over his neck and collarbone.

“Dean,” Cas sighs, shifting his hands down to Dean’s chest and pushing him away. “We shouldn’t do this here.” Dean moves off Cas and settles back in his seat, nodding vigorously.

“Yeah, yeah, we should probably slow-”

“Stay the night,” Cas blurts out. Dean looks up at him, eyes wide and dark.

“Oh… ok,” he murmurs after a second. Castiel pulls the door open and exits the Impala. He waits for Dean to lock the car, and takes his hand as they go up the walkway. He opens the front door, letting Dean inside first. The kitchen light is on, and an orange-yellow glow spills into the hallway.

As Castiel locks the door behind them, he feels Dean’s fingers trail lightly over his hip. He drags his lips up the ridge at the top of Cas’ spine, settling small kisses at the nape of his neck. Castiel turns and faces Dean, letting himself get swallowed up in the man once more.

“C’mon,” he says softly, tipping his head further into the house. He leads Dean by the hand toward his bedroom.

“Are you allergic to Cats?” Cas asks, only now thinking to ask.

“Uh, no,” Dean answers.

“Ok, cool,” Cas says. “You’re probably going to meet her, if she’s decided not to hide.” He opens the door to his bedroom and switches on the light, grateful that he thought to make his bed this morning.

“Cas, listen,” Dean says, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve never… done this before.”

“Well, yeah, I figured that,” he says, stepping up to Dean and slipping his hands around his neck.

“I mean, with a guy.” Dean says.

“I know, Dean,” Cas chuckles softly. “Look, if you just want to sleep tonight-”

“No! No, I definitely want… more than that,” Dean insists. “But, um… I don’t know exactly… or if you like…” Cas holds two fingers to Dean’s lips, quieting him.

“We’ll go at your pace ok?” Cas says, “and if it makes you feel better, eventually...,” Cas leans in close to Dean’s ear, “I’d like you to fuck me.” He can feel Dean’s shudder and his hands clutched tightly to Cas’ hips.

“But tonight,” Cas continues, hands moving off of Dean’s shoulders to the fly of his jeans, “let me take care of you.” Cas abruptly drops to his knees, pulling Dean’s cock from his boxers and jeans, and swallows him down.

Dean throws his head back, leaning against the door as Cas’ mouth works over his cock. Cas rolls his tongue over the head slowly, earning the nicest little groan from Dean. He opens his mouth wide, relaxing his throat and taking as much of Dean’s shaft into his mouth as possible, only stopping when his face is nestled in a thatch of light brown hair.

“Jesus christ!” Dean moans. Cas swallows once as the head slips to the base of his throat, and Dean’s breath catches harshly. Castiel can feel Dean’s legs trembling and he pulls off of him.

“Would you like to be on the bed?” He asks, voice slightly hoarser than before.

“Mmm-mmm,” Dean murmurs. He lets himself be directed back to the bed, falling on it once his legs hit the side. Cas works to get his pants all the way off, crawling back over Dean once he does.

“My god,” Dean mutters, hand petting through Cas’ hair and down the side of his face. “You are so fucking gorgeous.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys blowing you,” Cas chides. Dean gives a breathless laugh, which quickly dissolves into a moan as Cas once again descends on his cock. He draws his tongue up the vein on the underside, sloppily pulling off to suck on the head. Dean’s fingers brush through Cas’ hair as he comes down on his cock once more, sucking hard as he draws the head along the roof of his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but don’t fucking stop!” Dean gasps. Castiel continues, bobbing his head while keeping his fists loosely wrapped around the base of Dean’s shaft. Dean’s hands tighten in his hair, and he can hear his moans becoming rougher.

“Cas,” Dean grunts, “almost there.” Cas works faster until he feels Dean’s shaft tense beneath his hand and hears groans above him as he shoots down Cas’ throat. Cas swallows eagerly, drawing his lips around his softening shaft and feeling Dean twitch and gasp at the sensitivity.

Cas pulls off and crawls up the bed toward Dean. He’s met with an eager panting kiss as Dean practically attacks him, pulling Cas toward him and attempting to tear off his slacks. Cas quickly undoes his pants and Dean’s hand dives into his boxers, wrapping around his own stiff cock and jerking him furiously.

Cas lets himself be flipped onto his back as Dean works his shaft, continuing to kiss and lick into his mouth. Dean flicks his wrist and Castiel comes unexpectedly with a near-soundless cry, spilling over Dean’s fist and his untucked shirt.

They both collapse on the bed, chests rising and falling in unison. Cas pulls Dean’s hand up and wipes it with his already-soiled shirt.

“You’re amazing,” Dean finally says, words muffled by where his mouth is pressed into Cas’ shoulder. Cas smiles and rolls onto his side to kiss Dean.

“As are you,” he says. “What do you say we go to bed?” Dean nods and sits up, pulling off his t-shirt. Cas stands from the bed and pulls a couple pairs of gym shorts out of a drawer, handing one to Dean. They dress and slip beneath the covers.

“Good night, Dean,” Cas says, spooning up under Dean.

“Night, Cas,” Dean responds. He slips an arm around Cas’ middle and they both drift off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean sits on Castiel’s couch, a three inch stack of essays to his left. He and Cas spent the better part of the morning in bed, sleeping-in far too late. Around 11 am, they wandered out into the living room and cozied up on the sofa. After a few hours though, Dean snatched his school bag, accidentally left in the trunk of his car, and decided he might as well be a little productive today.

“30 essays? You have to grade all of those?” Cas asks, leaning against Dean’s shoulder and watching as Dean follows along with what he’s reading using the tip of his pen.

“Yup,” Dean answers, frowning and circling a group of words in red. Cas leans over and glances at the paper in Dean’s hand.

“‘Slaughterhouse-Five is an example of classic American literature because it is an American classic,’” he reads. Castiel blinks several times before looking at Dean.

“Are they serious?” Cas asks in complete disbelief. Dean snorts derisively.

“Oh, it gets so much better,” Dean says. “You should’ve read some of the shit they came up with when we did _The Scarlet Letter_.”

“What? Did they cite the Demi Moore movie?” Cas asks.

“Worse,” Dean laughs. “‘Easy A.’”

“Hey, I like that movie!” Cas says abruptly, sitting up straight.

“So do I,” Dean admits. “But it’s not the fuckin’ Scarlet Letter.” Cas laughs softly and continues to watch his boyfriend grade papers. Occasionally there will be a soft mutter of “yeah, right” or “if you say so, kid” from Dean. Castiel glances at the TV, uninterested in the episode of Master Chef currently playing. He stretches his hands above his head and tries to slyly wrap his arm around Dean’s shoulder.

“Cas,” Dean warns.

“What?” Cas asks innocently. “I’m not doing anything.”

“I’m halfway done,” Dean says. “The sooner I get through these, the sooner you can have my undivided attention.”

“Do you really need to get them all graded by Monday?” Cas whines, leaning his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

“Unless I want a swarm of helicopter parents attacking my room, yes,” Dean says, glancing at Cas out of the corner of his eye. Cas slides closer until he is practically perched on Dean’s shoulder. He leans over and plants a kiss on the column of Dean’s neck.

“Cas,” Dean whines, although he opens his neck up further allowing more room for Cas’ attention.

“Am I being a distraction, Mr Winchester?” Cas teases, seductively whispering in his ear.

“Cas, I’ve gone nearly ten years without fetishizing my job,” Dean laughs, shaking his head. “Please don’t make me start now.” Cas crawls over Dean, pushing the essays off the couch and crawling into his lap.

“So I’m guessing you’re done with subtlety?” Dean asks as Cas grabs his red pen, caps it, and throws it across his living room. “And that was my pen, by the way.”

“Do you really care?” Cas asks, leaning forward so his lips are barely brushing Dean’s. Dean tips his head up and captures Cas’ mouth easily in a kiss. His hands slide over Cas’ thighs and ass, sliding under his t-shirt and up his back. Dean moans softly as Cas runs his fingernails up over the back of Dean’s scalp.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas’ middle and twists them around, throwing Cas back on the couch.

“Finally,” Cas mutters. Dean moves down to suck bruises on the soft skin along his throat.

“Is this what you wanted, Cas?” Dean asks. “Working me up to attack you like this?” Castiel bites at his lip happily and nods as Dean moves down, pushing his shirt up over his chest. Cas gasps as Dean’s mouth locks onto one of his nipples, rolling his teeth over it gently until it is a hard nub.

Cas glances down to see Dean working his way down his body. His hands finds Dean’s hair and he cards his fingers gently through the soft strands. He gasps sharply when he feels Dean’s brush against his cock through the fabric of his cotton sleep pants.

“Tell me what you want, Cas?” Dean asks. He looks down at Dean, whose green eyes shine playfully. He hooks his hands in the hem of Cas’ pants, waiting for the cue.

“I want you to get me off Dean,” Cas murmurs.

“How?” Dean asks with a playful smirk.

“I want you to suck my cock, you asshole!” Cas yelps sternly. Dean winks up at Cas and shoves Cas’ pants and boxers down over his hips roughly. Cas holds his breath until he feels the first touch of Dean’s mouth to the tip of his cock. Dean isn’t as tentative as he expected, taking the entirety his cock in one smooth movement. Cas relaxes back against the sofa as Dean swipes his tongue up and down over his shaft.

“Mmm, Dean,” Cas hums, petting his hand through his hair. Dean pulls up and looks at Cas, lips swollen beautifully.

“If you want to get rough with me, I don’t mind,” he says. Cas blinks a couple times, not sure he heard Dean right.

“Are you sure?” He asks. Dean grins and nods before descending back down onto Castiel’s cock.

Cas licks at his lips nervously, a bit unsure of how rough Dean is implying. He places his hands back on Dean’s head and pushes down. Instantly, Dean is enthusiastically swallowing Cas’ cock down his throat. Cas throws his head back, groaning as the head of his cock moves past the back of Dean’s tongue.

“Jesus Dean,” he sighs. Dean pulls up, before quickly sliding back down the shaft. He repeats this several times, going a little deeper each time.

“Where is your gag reflex?!” Cas says with a shaky laugh. Dean pulls off with a pop, lips slick with saliva and precome and grins at him. Cas looks at him curiously, wondering what is going on in that pretty little head, when he feels Dean take one of his balls into his mouth. Cas gasps and sinks his nails into Dean’s scalp.

“I thought you‘d like that,” Dean says with a small wink, sucking down Cas once again. It isn’t long until Cas is coming with a groan. It takes Dean by surprise and when he pulls off, cum and saliva coat his mouth and chin. Castiel tugs him forward into a heady kiss, moaning lewdly at the taste of himself on Dean’s mouth. He intertwines his legs with Dean, rubbing the hard mass of Dean’s cock beneath his jeans.

“Cas!” Dean sighs breathlessly. Cas wastes no time untying Dean’s pants and they both struggle to slip them over the mound on Dean’s ass. As soon as Dean’s cock is free, Cas filthily licks his palm and slips his hand around Dean’s cock. Dean gasps, hot breath ghosting Cas’ cheek.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas mumbles. “My mouth? My hands?”

“Just… oh fuck!” He groans as Castiel flicks his wrist. “Just keep fucking touching me.” Castiel obeys his demand, refocusing his grip. He wraps his free hand behind Dean’s head and pulls him in for another filthy kiss. Dean’s whole body tremors minutely, his arms shaking from holding himself up over Castiel. Cas pulls back from the kiss, tugging at his inside arm and encouraging him to lay on his side.

They lay there, legs slotted together, Dean’s head on Cas’ shoulder, groaning in ecstasy as he spills over Cas’ hand. He shudders through his orgasm, lips lightly touching any part of Cas’ face and neck they can reach.

They lie in sated silence, enjoying the afterglow for several minutes when Cas finally speaks.

“Um, Dean… Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he says.

“I’m the first guy you’ve been with… right?” Cas mumbles. Dean looks at him carefully.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Why?”

“Because that was insanely good for a first-time blowjob,” Cas blurts out. Dean’s whole body shakes with laughter.

“Ah… I, uh, might’ve been doing a little research on my phone earlier,” Dean admits, not meeting Cas’ eye.

“You what?!” Cas asks, both baffled and amused.

“I… looked up how to give a blow job,” Dean admits reluctantly. Cas just stares at him in disbelief.

“And it taught you how to deep-throat?!” He asks.  Dean shyly nods.

“You, uh, grab your left thumb and squeeze it,” Dean says. “It’s like a human cheat code.”

“Oh my God,” Cas laughs to himself before capturing Dean’s mouth with his own. He sighs as he and Dean relax back into each other.

“I swear to God, If I got any cum on those essays, I will be so pissed.” Dean lets his head fall against Cas’ shoulder once more. Cas takes a glance behind him, noticing the papers strewn across his living room floor.

“No, they all seem to be out of the line of fire,” he assures. Dean nods in thanks and curls in closer to Castiel.

“Trying to throw me off my game, Cas?” Dean asks, picking his head up and raising an eyebrow. Castiel puts on his best innocent expression.

“Not at all,” he says, “but you looked like you could use a break.”

“I could probably use a shower,” Dean admits, propping himself up on his elbow. Castiel sits up from the couch and rises to his feet.

“Take one then,” he says. “I’ll grab you a towel and then, when you come back, I will let you focus 100% on you homework.” He beams at Dean.

“Alright, Cas,” he says, pulling his pants back up as he stands, ignoring the mess on his belly for now. Cas leads him down the hall, grabbing a dark blue towel from the linen closet and leading him back to the master bedroom. Dean leans in and kisses him sweetly, taking Cas by surprise.

“Thanks,” he murmurs before ducking into the bathroom. Cas licks at his lips and walks away, knowing if he stays standing there, he’ll convince himself to jump in the shower with Dean. Cas shakes his head “No,” remembering that he promised no distractions. He heads back into the living room, turning on his DVD player and starting the next episode of Firefly.

*******

Charlie stalks across campus toward Dean’s classroom. He’s wiping down the whiteboard after his last class and hears her grumbling well before she arrives. She throws open his door.

“He denied it!” She shouts.

“What?” Dean asks, completely confused as to what Charlie could be referring to.

“He denied our petition for a GSA,” she clarifies. “He said it’s too political a club to have on school grounds.”

“Political?’” Dean asks, faces twisted in confusion.

“Right?” Charlie pipes up, dropping into one of the desks in the front row. “Never mind that we have both a Young Republicans and a Young Democrats society. I don’t understand why this suddenly crosses a line.”

“Did he say anything else?” Dean asks, half-sitting on the front of his desk.

“He said we can revisit the issue in another year,” Charlie grumbles. “I said I’d bring it to the school board and that… that… Dick!” Dean holds back a snort at the double meaning of Principal Roman’s actual name, “just told me to go ahead! He said their views would be in agreement with his.”

“Oh jeez,” Dean groans. “I’m sorry, Charlie.” She looks up at Dean seriously, eyes dangerously focused.

“If you think this is the end of it, I will tell you now I have not yet begun to fight!” Dean does chuckle at Charlie’s clear allusion to her own curriculum.

“What are you planning on doing?” Dean asks, out of a sense of morbid curiosity.

“Social media attack,” Charlie answers. “I am going on every message board, every blog, every site and page I can contact. I am not keeping quiet about this! Unless he wants every LGBTQ organization in the Southeast descending on the school like a swarm of bees, he will change his position.” Dean nods slowly. He has a lot of admiration for Charlie and her passions and drive. Dean has passions too, but they are pretty limited to his family, his car, his students and… well, Cas, to be honest.

“Well, that’s great Charlie,” he says. “Fight the power. If you need anything from me, just ask.”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” Charlie admits sheepishly. Dean looks at her, brows furrowed.

“What?”

“It would be amazing to get a local news channel involved,” Charlie says, “and you happen to be… well, dating a contact at Action New, yes?” Dean’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.

“Oh absolutely not, Charlie!” Dean exclaims.

“C’mon, Dean!” Charlie pleads. “I wouldn’t ask unless it was a big deal. We’re talking about basic human rights!”

“Charlie,” Dean groans, leaning back on his desk and staring at the ceiling. “I can’t just rope my boyfriend into your drama.”

“Yes, you can!” Charlie pipes up. “Look, I’m just saying… mention it to him. See if he thinks it’d make a good story.” Dean scrubs a hand over his face and stares at her deadpan.

“You know he’s not a reporter, right?” Dean reminds her, “He’s a producer? Behind the camera, remember?”

“Sure, but he probably knows reporters, right?” Charlie asks. She rises from the desk and moves to sit on top of it. “Look, Dean, I need you to look at this from the kids point of view: The GSA would be a huge boon for us. I would’ve killed for one when I was in school, just a place to go where I felt less… I don’t know, like an oddball, y’know?” Dean snorts in spite of himself.

“Charlie, I guarantee that even if you had a GSA, you would’ve still been an oddball,” he says. Charlie stares up at him with big pleading eyes, knowing it’s Dean’s weakness. He sighs heavily and scrubs a hand down his face.

“Ok, look, I’ll let Cas know about the situation ok?” Charlie starts clapping gleefully, “But I’m making no promises, and if he says no, I am _not_ pressing the issue with him, alright?” Charlie jumps off the desk and wraps her arms around Dean.

“ThankYou ThankYou ThankYou ThankYou,” She rattles off enthusiastically. Dean pats her back tensely.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, trying not to seem so pleased with helping his friend. Charlie jumps back and grins at him.

“This is so great, Dean,” She says, looping her messenger bag over her shoulder, “Call me when you have an answer.” As quickly as she arrived, she is gone through the door. Dean falls down into his desk chair and lets his chin fall into his hands, thoroughly exhausted by the exchange.

*******

Cas sits at Dean’s kitchen table, nursing a beer and watching Dean focus intently on his pasta sauce.

“So what is the secret of your spaghetti sauce?” Cas asks. Dean laughs and shakes his head.

“No secret to it,” Dean says, “Just your basic redneck spaghetti sauce: Jimmy Dean sausage, big can of tomato sauce, quarter-cup of sugar. My mom used to make this for us growing up.”

“So it’s comfort food, then?” Cas asks.

“Sure as hell ain’t authentic Italian,” Dean snorts, taking a pull off his beer. He stirs the bubbling pot of spaghetti and turns to look at Cas, who appears to be deleting emails off his phone.

“Hey, um, can I run something by you?” Dean asks carefully. Cas raises his head.

“What’s up?” he asks. Dean stirs both pots once more before walking past the bar that separates the kitchen and dining area.

“So um, Charlie, the woman you met a couple weeks back?”

“Yes, I remember Charlie,” Cas says carefully.

“She has been trying to form a Gay Straight Alliance at the school for years now.” Dean explains, “Unfortunately, all clubs need two staff sponsors.” Cas nods knowingly.

“And she’s having a hard time finding one?” He supplies.

“Yeah,” Dean says, “Until she drafted me for the job.” Cas tilts his head to the side, still not sure where this conversation is going.

“Do you have an issue being a sponsor of the Gay Straight Alliance?” Cas asks. Dean shakes his head quickly.

“No, not at all. I’m fine with it.” Dean says, “She could’ve asked me first and I would’ve said ok.” Cas narrows his eyes.

“Dean, I’m not sure where this is going.” Cas says. Dean sighs and leans against the wall.

“Our principal denied her request to start the club,” He says.

“Why?” Cas asks, distressed by this revelation.

“He says it’s too political,” Dean says. He pushes off the wall and moves back to the kitchen to stir the food, “It’s a bullshit excuse, we all know it. We already existing have political clubs at the school and have for years.”

“So basically he’s using that excuse his mask his own prejudice?” Cas asks sarcastically. He rises from the table, taking his beer and following Dean into the kitchen.

“I have no idea,” Dean says, opening a nearby cabinet and pulling out a colander, dropping it into the sink, “But Charlie is now on the warpath.”

“I imagine so!” Cas says, taking a sip of his drink. Dean turns off the burners. He pulls a couple potholders from a drawer and gingerly picks up the steaming spaghetti pot.

“Yeah, she wants to start a massive social media campaign, start a petition,” he pours the pot over the colander, “contact local news stations.” Dean looks up at Castiel knowingly, hoping his message is clear. Cas looks confused for a moment before brightening in realization.

“Oh,” he replies plainly.

“Look,” Dean says, holding up his hands, “This was her idea, to ask you. I was completely against it.”

“I don’t quite understand why she thinks I’d be valuable in this scenario,” Cas raises a brow.

“I guess she think you know reporters and people who decide what stories go on air,” Dean says. “Cas, please understand, I am not expecting you to get you involved with this.”

“Why?” Cas asks, “I do know a few of the reporters and I can pass the idea along to my executive producer. I think this would go over big.” Dean’s expression is still unsure.

“I don’t like the idea of using you like this,” Dean admits painfully. Cas frowns and steps forward, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck.

“Why do you think you’re using me?” Cas asks, with a soft smile, “Look, your friend needs help, and I’m able to. Why wouldn’t I want to assist?” He leans in, his lips meeting Dean’s.

“I guess,” Dean mumbles against Cas’ mouth.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Cas says between sweet kisses, “As compensation, after dinner, you can make out with me on the couch.” Dean laughs and wraps his hands around Cas’ hips.

“I think I’m getting the better bargain here, Cas,” Dean replies.

“I don’t know,” Cas says slyly, “I mean… have you _seen_ you? Seriously?” Dean pulls back reluctantly and gives Cas a sly look.

“Y’know, we have to let the food cool before we eat it,” he offers, “Want to get a 10-minute headstart?” Cas grins and pulls Dean toward the living room.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean digs into his meatloaf. His family dinner table is a soft din of chewing noises and pleased hums. His mom had been bugging him and Sam to come to dinner for the last couple of weeks and it finally got to a point where they couldn’t avoid it. So he, Sam and Jess had all piled in the Impala and drove the three and a half hours to St. Petersburg. Cas is already working tonight, and as much as Dean is ashamed to admit it, he was relieved.

Although he wants his family to meet and, more importantly, accept Cas, Dean doesn’t think surprising them is the way to go. They have to ease into the situation.

He breaks apart a crusty roll and takes a bite while his mom and Jess discuss her new job. He can feel Sam sending him questioning looks. The entire drive down, Sam kept returning to the question of if or when the elusive “Cas” would make an appearance.

“So Dean,” his mother says, catching him mid-chew, “how’s school going?” Dean nods and swallows.

“S’good,” he says. “We just made it through mid-terms, so that’s done and a lot of my seniors are taking their AP exams in the next few weeks. They are pretty on edge about that.” Mary and John both nod, satisfied with the answer. Dean takes another bite of his food.

“Your mom says you’re seeing someone,” John says. Dean stops chewing momentarily and swallows thickly.

“Ah, yeah. I am,” he answers. He catches Sam’s concerned gaze out of the corner of his eye and shrugs minutely.

“So?” John asks, putting down his fork and focusing his gaze on Dean.

“What?” Dean asks.

“Tell us about her,” he says. “What’s her name? What’s she like? What does she do?” Dean hears Jess’ sharp intake of breath.

“We’ve, uh, been dating a little over a month,” Dean answers simply. “Not very long.”

“Long time for you, Dean,” Mary teases with a giggle.

“So what else?” John continues. Dean bites at his lip and weighs his options. He knows he should just bite the bullet and lay the situation out as it is, but at the same time, what if this thing with Cas isn’t meant to be? What if Dean is just stirring up drama for no reason? He sighs internally, knowing that, even if things with Cas don’t work out, there’s always the (likely) chance of there being another guy in his life.

Might as well face the music.

“There’s something I have to tell you guys,” Dean says somberly. Everyone’s head rises and turns toward him. Sam and Jess gives him a sympathetic looks.

“What’s going on?” Mary asks with some concern.

“This person I’m seeing,” Dean starts. He takes a deep breath. “It’s a guy.” John and Mary’s expressions are blank and it takes a few seconds for Mary’s brows to furrow in confusion.

“But… But you’re straight, Dean,” she says. It’s not offended or accusing, but simply stating a fact, like she’s pointing out that the sky is blue. John looks at Dean critically but doesn’t say anything, taking a bite of his food instead.

“Um, well… uh, mom, I guess I’m not.” Dean admits quietly.

“So… you’re gay now?” She asks, the barest trace of disappointment in her voice. Dean shakes his head adamantly.

“Not gay,” Dean clarifies. “I’m still attracted to women just… men, too.”

“Bisexual,” Jess pipes up. Dean smiles at her and nods, but still catches his father’s glare in her direction.

“I don’t understand, Dean,” Mary says. “Did… Did something happen?” Dean looks at his mom and shakes his head.

“It’s not something that _happened_ , Mom,” he says. “Well, I take that back: Yes, something happened. I met a man I was attracted to and we started seeing each other.” Dean can see the struggle across her expression.

“I don’t understand,” John says, his voice much calmer than Dean would’ve expected. “You just decided to switch teams?” Dean shakes his head, struggling with how to explain this.

“It’s nothing I decided, Dad,” Dean answers. “I’ve… I’ve always known what I liked, ok? From puberty on, I’ve known. Sam can vouch for that.” He jerks a thumb in Sam’s direction, who perks up uncomfortably at the sudden focus.

“So what? Women just aren’t good enough anymore?” John says, calm demeanor slowly turning gruffer.

“It’s not like that,” Dean says, mustering as much fortitude as he can manage. “I like this person. I’m attracted to them and I like being around them. They just happen to be a guy, alright?” John looks away, clearly not satisfied with the explanation.

“I don’t get what you’re trying to accomplish, Dean,” John says dismissively.

“What I _want_ ,” Dean counters, “is to introduce my boyfriend to my family without a lot of friction.” John looks up from his plate and glares at Dean harshly.

“Look, I know you may not understand. You may not want to accept it,” Dean sighs. “But… I care for Cas and I would like you to meet him and him to meet you too.” John refocuses on his food, but Mary reaches across the table and takes Dean’s hand in her’s.

“We would love to have your… Cas over for dinner, Dean,” She nudges her husband indelicately. “Wouldn’t we, John?” John grunts in the affirmative but doesn’t say anything further.

 

***   
  
After Dinner, John walks Sam and Jess around the back of their property, showing where they are going to install a greenhouse for the coming winter. Mary volunteered Dean to help her clean up and put away leftovers, but Dean knows this is her chance to talk to him one on one.

“Dean,” she says quietly. “Please be honest with me: When…?” She trails off but Dean understands the question. He takes a deep breath and puffs out his cheeks as he thinks back.

“I don’t know… 14 probably. I don’t know. It started so gradually. Probably was something I always knew, y’know?” Mary nods, but Dean thinks she only doing it for his benefit.

“All this time,” she says, expression pained, “you kept it from us?” Dean comes to stand next to her.

“It’s not like I was keeping it from you guys, it’s just…” Dean runs a hand through his hair as he struggles to find the words. “This is the first guy I’ve had any sort of… well, anything with. Up until this point, mentioning to you that I liked men as well would be like… mentioning my porn habits!” Mary snorts as he rushes the last part out.

“Alright, alright, I see what you mean,” she laughs. It quickly fades as she dries her hands. “I’m sorry about your Dad. He’s not… trying to be that way.”

“That honestly went a whole lot better than I expected,” Dean admits. “He didn’t throw me out of the house, so that’s a big plus.”

“Oh, pishaw,” Mary admonishes. “Your Dad wouldn’t throw you out of the house! He loves you boys, no matter what. And he doesn’t hate gay people either.” Dean looks at his mom, unconvinced.

“Yeah, but, there’s that whole…” Dean trails off, waving his hand in the air non-committedly.

“The whole what?” Mary asks, putting down the towel she was using, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter.

“The whole Marine thing,” Dean says. “It goes against all of that, right?” Mary chuckles and considers this, rocking her head side to side.

“I don’t think so.” Mary says as she picks up a covered pyrex dish and slips it into the fridge. “And anyway, who gives a shit what he thinks?” Dean laughs in surprise at the unexpected language and Mary smiles warmly at him.

“So tell me more about Cas?” She asks. “Is that short for something?”

“Castiel,” Dean says, incapable of controlling his grin. “He’s… He’s awesome, Mom.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and flips through his pictures until he finds a photo of Cas. He flips his phone toward Mary.

“Oh, he’s cute,” Mary says. “So when are you bringing him by?” She hands his phone back to him.

“Next time I see him, I’ll ask,” Dean says. Mary nods and looks at Dean curiously with a mixture of both warmth and sadness. 

“Does this mean you’ll never give me grandchildren?” She asks. Dean nearly spits out the sip of beer he just took, coughing fitfully.

“Ah, wow, um... Well, first, we’ve only been going out a month. It’s a little soon to talk about kids,” Dean stammers out. “And secondly, I’m bisexual, not sterile.” Mary laughs lightly and nods again. They finish putting away the leftovers and Dean goes to wipe down the counter. He notices his mom watching him carefully.

“You know, Dean, I really don’t have an issue with all of this,” she says. “I mean I had my own share of …. experiences in college.” Dean’s eyes widen and he chuckles awkwardly.

“Really… you don’t need to explain that, mom,” he mutters.

“My roommate and I would get _so_ high…” Mary continues. “then we’d-”

“Really don’t need to hear that, Mom,” Dean says, quickly cutting her off. He thanks God that at that moment, John, Sam and Jess come back in through the kitchen door, pulling Mary into a conversation about her summer gardening plans.

 

*******

 

Castiel’s eyes droop as he sits in the staff meeting, listening to Chuck drone on about something. He was at Dean’s house much too late and is paying for it sorely now. He shakes his head, trying to wake himself up but, it’s no excuse.

He glances to his right where Gabriel is busy drawing cartoon genatalia (male and female) into the margins of his ledger pad.

“What are you doing?” Cas hisses.

“Trying to stay awake,” Gabriel mutters, “which you are not having much success in doing.” He yawns wide, causing Cas to as well.

“Alright, guys, I think that’s all I have outside your next assignments,” Chuck says as he passes out a stack of manilla envelopes. He gives one to Castiel, whose eyes drop down to see Bartholomew written above his name again. He frowns. Although true to his word, working with Bartholomew had been trying. The man hadn’t made any overt sexual overtures toward Cas, but some strange instinct kept him wary of the man. When they were working together in the darkened editing bay, Bartholomew’s chair always seemed to move closer to Castiel to the point where he could feel his body heat radiating off of him.

There were also some things he said to Cas. He’d bring up moments from their former relationship or the circumstances that led to him moving to New York. A few times, Bartholomew tried to offer some sort of apology, but Castiel stopped him carefully before he could. He didn’t want his apology, because that meant that Bartholomew was searching for Cas’ forgiveness and that is something Cas wasn’t ready to give.

Maybe if Bartholomew were different, but he was still the same cocky, self-assured guy he’d always been and that was the real problem.

Gabriel nudges Cas hard in the arm.

“Up and at ‘em sunshine,” Gabe hisses. Castiel jerks his head up noticing everyone rising from their seat. He walks over to Chuck, who is carefully sorting his paper.

‘Uh, Chuck?” he says.

“Yeah, Cas?” Chuck replies.

“I, uh… I think I might have a story lead.” Chuck stops what he is doing and considers him.

“Really?” he replies. Cas nods.

“Yeah, um… Carver Edlund High School is denying the students wanting to form a Gay Straight Alliance under false regulations.”

“False regulations?”

“Yeah, the principal says it’s too governmental,” he explains, “but the school has political student organizations already in place.” Chuck’s brows draw together tightly.

“And you think this is news?”

“Well, with the marriage-equality ban is on the verge of lifting in the state of Florida, I’d say this is a pretty relevant news story, yes.” Cas argues. Chuck nods as he thinks.

“The students want this and the school is denying them?” He clarifies.

“I’ve gotten the information second hand, but yes I believe so,” Cas responds hesitantly. Chuck glances down at the folder in his hand.

“Tell you what? Hand that there off to Gabriel. You and Bartholomew can work on your lead.” Chuck says, “Might make an interesting segment.” Cas’ eyes brighten.

“Really?” He can’t wait to tell Dean.

“Sure. Why not?” Chuck says, moving past Cas and out of the conference room door. Cas stands there for a moment in disbelief before fist-pumping into the air and rushing out of the room.

He drops the manilla folder at Gabriel’s cubicle before setting off to find Bartholomew.

 

*******

 

Bartholomew is less than enthused about the story.

“There’s nothing here, Castiel,” He says. “A school is within its rights to say whether a student organization can exist or not.”

“Yeah, but it’s the lie that is important here,” Cas argues, “You can’t say you won’t allow a club because it’s ‘political’ but at the same time have two very blatant political groups.”

“What are these political groups?” Bartholomew asks.

“Young democrats and young republicans clubs,” Cas answers. Bartholomew leans his head back and thinks.

“I just don’t see it,” he says. Cas frowns; He knows he just being obtuse in response to Castiel rebuffing him repeatedly.

“Fine,” Cas says curtly, “I’ll just pass all of this along to Naomi. I bet she would love to do this story.” Bartholomew’s eyes go wide and Cas knows he’s got him. He will take any opportunity to one-up Naomi.

“No, no, we can do the story,” He says, sitting up straight in his desk chair, “Find me the contacts and we’ll go there on Monday.”

“Great,” Castiel says with a wide grin, “I’ll get on that.” He hurries away from Bartholomew’s office and back to his cubicle. Once there he pulls out his cell phone. He knows Dean went to his parent’s today and doesn’t want to interrupt their meal. He unlocks his phone and opens his text messages.

_Tell Charlie we’ll have a reporter there to talk to her on Monday._

 

***  
  


Dean and Sam are saying good-bye to their parents when he hears his textone ring from his pocket. He pulls out his phone, smiling when he sees Cas’ name, followed by his jaw dropping open when he reads the message.

Sam and Jess are getting in the car when Dean tells them to wait.

“I need to make a call real quick, ok?” He walks off about 20 feet before dialing the number.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas answers and, goddammit, if that isn’t just the sexiest sound on Earth.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says. “I got your message. So… a real reporter, huh? This is actually going to become a story?”

“Possibly,” Cas answers. “One of the reporters and I are looking into it. I’m not getting a lot of confidence from him or my producer, but they like it enough to explore it.”

“Well that’s great. I’m sure Charlie will be thrilled.” Dean shifts the phone to the other ear and holds up a couple fingers to indicate ‘two minutes’ to Sam and Jess.

“Glad to hear that,” Cas says. “Are you still in St. Petersburg?”

“Yeah, about to leave actually,” Dean says. “Should be home in a couple hours.” Dean debates telling Cas that he told his folks about him, but decides it’s better to wait for face to face.

“What time do you get off of work?” Dean asks.

“12:30,” he answers.

“You know… I should be home by then,” Dean says flirtatiously. “If you want to come over, spend the night, I’d be all for that.” There is a second of hesitation on the other line and Dean thinks for a moment he asked too much.

“It sounds perfect, Dean,” Cas says. “I’ll text you when I’m leaving.”

“Sure thing, Cas,” Dean says, now smiling ear to ear. “See you then.”

“Good-bye Dean,” Cas says right before hanging up. Dean stares at his darkened phone for a minute, trying to wipe the perma-grin he’s currently wearing from his face. The horn of the Impala blares loudly and he turns to see Sam waiting impatiently in the front seat.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbles as he walks back to the car. “Where’s the fire, Sam?”

He turns the ignition and shifts into gear, driving down his parents winding, unpaved driveway. He doesn’t know how the hell he got so lucky to end up with a guy as amazing as Cas, but it feels pretty good.

 

*******

 

Dean is barely awake when his message tone pings.

_Cas: I’m leaving the office now. Still want me to come over?_ Dean smiles to himself and taps a reply.

_Of Course. I’m just watching TV._ He sets his phone on the coffee table and flips the channel to something that might keep him awake.

A short while later there is a knock at his door. He stands, stretches with a groan and goes to answer it. Dean’s face lights up the moment he sees a tired, but happy-looking Cas.

“Hey there,” Dean says, pulling him in by the arm and kissing him.

“Hello Dean,” Cas mumbles against his lips. They stand in the doorway, kissing lazily until Cas steps back to break them apart.

“You look tired,” he says with a sympathetic smile. Dean shrugs.

“Too much of my mom’s home cooking,” he offers, patting his stomach. “What time is it anyway?” Cas pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket.

“Quarter after one,” he answers. Dean groans and scrubs a hand down his face. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” Dean smiles and takes Cas’ hand. He flips off the light in the living room and pulls Cas down the hall to his bedroom. It occurs to Dean that this is the first time Cas will be seeing his room. Until now, they’ve always remained in the neutral area of his living room, getting frisky on the couch.

Dean is all at once nervous about what this means for the physical side of their relationship. While he’s enjoyed what they’ve done so far, he’s still unsure of himself going further. Sure, he’s done his research, but practical application is an entirely different matter.

Cas must feel him tense up, because he squeezes his hand warmly. Dean smiles and leans over, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. They walk into the bedroom, and Dean takes a mental note of whether or not he’s cleaned in the last month. He frowns, not being able to recall if he did or not, and prays at least the sheets are decent. They strip down to t-shirts and boxers and slip beneath Dean’s comforter, facing each other.

Dean presses forward, kissing Cas passionately. He lets his hand wander down Cas’ arm, over his side, and feels a giddy little thrill as he wraps a hand over the globe of Cas’ ass. Cas inhales sharply and moans into Dean’s mouth. He moves in closer, slotting their legs together until Dean can feel his own hardened shaft brush against Cas’.

Fuck, he wants this man so much.

He was exhausted before, but the sudden rush of arousal is like a shot of caffeine right to his brain. His hands move up, hiking Cas’ shirt up over his belly. Before he can get it up over Cas’ chest though, he places a hand on Dean’s arm, stilling him.

“Dean,” he mumbles breathily, “I hate to stop the fun, but I know I’m tired and you look dead on your feet.” Dean nods, sobered by Cas’ words. He wonders if Cas is saying them for his benefit, but doesn’t dwell on the question.

Cas flips to his other side so that Dean is spooned around him. He presses his nose into the back of the thick, dark mess of hair and inhales deeply, catching a heady whiff of Cas’s shampoo, cologne, and musk. Cas hums happily and pulls Dean’s outer arm around his middle.

“I told my parents today,” Dean mumbles, remembering what he was supposed to tell him. Cas gives a questioning hum. “About you?” He twists his head awkwardly to look at Dean.

“You told them?” Dean nods.

“Yeah,” Dean says, absently kissing at soft skin at the back of Cas’ neck.

“How’d they take it?” Cas asks hesitantly after a moment.

“Better than expected,” Dean answers. “I think they’re more confused than anything. My dad wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t yell. That’s a win in my book.” Cas twists his head back and kisses him.

“I’m glad,” Cas says.

“They want to meet you,” Dean says. Cas’ eyes brighten minutely and he smiles.

“Ok.” He snuggles back down into Dean’s arms and soon they are both fast asleep. In the moments before Dean drifts off, the question crosses his mind whether it is too soon to say he is in love with Cas.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [ANobleCompanion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion) for supplying Cas' CAH pairing.

The news van pulls up outside of the school on Tuesday morning. Cas and Bartholomew step out, as well as their camera guy Ash.

“So we’re looking for a ‘Miss Bradbury?’” Bartholomew asks, looking at the notes in his hand. Cas nods and moves toward the front entrance. He quickly texts Charlie, having gotten her number from Dean previously. When they get about 100 feet from the door, he sees a familiar red head of hair exit the building. Charlie walks towards them, waving slightly. Cas notices that her demeanor is far more nervous than when they had initially met.

“Hi Cas,’ she greets, wrapping her arms around him. He catches Bartholomew raising an eyebrow in his direction, but chooses to ignore it. “Um… would it be ok if we do this off campus? I’m on my free period right now and I’m not sure who I can trust.” Bartholomew gives her an incredulous look, but Cas nods and follows her into the staff parking lot.

They arrange to meet at a small cafe down the block. Cas, Bartholomew and Ash jump back in the van, Cas in the driver’s seat.

“You didn’t mention that you had a personal involvement in this Castiel?” Bartholomew says. Cas glances at him, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Yes, I happen to know Charlie,” he says. “Why do you think she contacted me? It’s not like I’m a reporter.”

“Don’t you think this violates some sort of journalistic ethics?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in Cas’ direction. Cas freezes for a moment, quickly trying to remember his journalism classes from college. He doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong, right? Having a personal connection to a story is only unethical if you have some personal gain, like stock in a company. Cas’ mind flits to Dean but he quickly shuts it down.

“No,” he finally says. “I have no dog in this fight. I’m just sussing out and presenting information. And besides, Charlie is just looking for a little exposure. A little support.”

“We need to appear unbiased,” Bartholomew warns. “If it appears as if we’re showing favoritism-” Cas gives him a dull stare.

“It’s an op-ed piece. Opinion Editorial. _Not_ a senate race,” he says, cutting him off. “We’re under no obligation to remain unbiased.” Bartholomew shrugs as they pull up along the curb in front of the cafe. He sees Charlie pop out from the Mini Cooper in front of them. Cas, Bartholomew and Ash exit the van and follow her to one of the outside tables.

“The staff won’t have a problem with all this, right?” Castiel asks, indicating Ash and his camera setup. Charlie shakes her head.

“No, a friend of mine owns this place,” she says. “I mentioned us possibly showing up here a couple days ago.

“Well, Ms. Bradbury, is it? Bartholomew Harris.” He extends his hand and Charlie shakes it. “Ash is going to take a minute to find the lighting. Do you need anything? Something to drink?” Castiel asks as Bartholomew puts on his best charming persona. This was the same one that got him named as one of the Sexiest Men in North Florida.

“I’m fine,” Charlie says, pulling out her own bottle of water from her messenger bag. “Can we get started though? I can’t be away for too long.” The interview goes well, just a basic play-by-play of what has gone down so far. Charlie pleads her case for the club, why it’s important for the kids, _all_ of the kids, in the school and not just the LGBTQ ones. The whole thing goes as expected with no standout moments save for one: Charlie described her first denial by school leadership and Bartholomew asked for clarification on the principal’s name.

“uh… Richard Roman,” Charlie supplies. Something flickers briefly across Bartholomew’s face.

“Your principal is Dick Roman?” he mumbles.

“Do you know him?” Castiel asks. Bartholomew shakes his head dismissively and moves onto the next question after scribbling a small note on his pad.

Within 30 minutes, they are done. Bartholomew thanks Charlie profusely before climbing into the van with Ash. Castiel hangs back to say goodbye to Charlie.

“Thanks again for doing this, Cas,” she says, “I know you’re going out of your way and all-” Castiel waves her off.

“My pleasure, Charlie,” he replies, “This is an important matter and hot issue as well.”

“Yeah, well these kids need all the support they can get,” Charlie scuffs her shoe against the ground, “This isn’t the most forgiving location.” Cas nods in agreement. Charlie reaches out and gives him another hug.

“I gotta get going,” she offers up the Vulcan salute. “Peace out, bitches.” Cas waves her goodbye and walks back to the van. He climbs into the driver’s seat. Bartholomew is in the passenger seat, glancing over the notes from the interview.

“Say, Castiel,” he pipes up as they pull away from the curb. “This ‘ _Dean_ ’ that Charlie mentioned… That wouldn’t happen to be your boyfriend Dean, would it?” Castiel bristles visibly.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Bartholomew grins a wide, devious smile.

“It is, isn’t it?” He says. “Castiel, you’re involvement is this is much more intimate than you initially led on.”

“Charlie is the one leading all of this,” Cas insists. “Dean is only a part of it because they need staff sponsors.”

“And also because he’s gay?” He supplies. Cas grits his teeth; he is in no mood to deal with Bartholomew’s snark and attitude.

“I am not having this conversation,” Cas says, focusing his attention on the road. “If you want to take my name off of this story, go ahead.”

“I’m just messing with you, Castiel,” Bartholomew say jovially. “Friends are allowed to do that, right? We are friends?” Cas sighs heavily and nods. There is no way in hell he considers Bartholomew his friend, but if saying so means the boat remains un-rocked, so be it.

They pull up in front of the school. Cas directs Ash to get a few stock shots of the school and the sign. Bartholomew rolls down his window next to where Cas is standing.

“I don’t know why you are so against me talking about Dean,” he says. “Clearly, I’m not wrong. The guy is your boyfriend.”

“I don’t want to bring it up because I am done mixing my work and personal lives.” Cas hisses, under his breath so Ash doesn’t hear.

“And yet you’re doing this story,” Bartholomew sighs. Cas frowns deeply; he’s got him there. He turns to Bartholomew, looking very serious.

“I’m not talking about it because we used to date,” he clarifies. “And the dumbest thing you can do is bring up past relationships in current ones and vice versa.” Bartholomew looks away, considering this.

“True,” he says. “We were friends, though, once. Good friends.” Cas shakes his head, not bothering to look at him.

“Can I ask you a question?” Cas blurts out, turning on his heel to face Bartholomew. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you break your promise?” Bartholomew looks away, expression contrite. He opens the van door and steps out.

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “It was dumb.”

“Yeah, I know it was dumb,” Cas snaps back. “But why?” Bartholomew shrugs.

“I was hurt, I was embarrassed,” he admits.

“You could’ve told me as soon as we broke up that you didn’t want me coming with!” Castiel says, no longer worrying about his volume.

“Yeah, but…” Bartholomew sighs and scratches at the back of his neck, looking away. “When you brought it up you looked so disappointed and I thought…” He trails off.

“What? What did you think?” Cas asks. Bartholomew shrugs again, avoiding looking Castiel in the eye. He’s behaving like a child who’s done something wrong. Castiel notes that Cecily does the same thing when Meg or Balthazar catches her taking toys from Hannah.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t hurt you.” Bartholomew bites at his lip and looks at Cas, who shakes his head in disbelief.

“But you did anyway,” Cas supplies spitefully. “Twice.”

“To be fair, when I wrote the email, I was pretty drunk.” Bartholomew says, holding up two hands in defense. “And Theo-”

“Yeah, I know you were sleeping with him,” Cas interrupts him. Bartholomew had an admirable amount of discretion; it’s part of why Castiel felt comfortable falling into bed with him, despite the fact that they worked together.

The same couldn’t be said for Theo, who spoke very publicly and candidly about their times together. Castiel wasn’t jealous, but he couldn’t ignore the openly-angry leers the younger man directed at him.

“Yeah, not my best decision,” Bartholomew mutters. Castiel didn’t hear what happened after Theo after he arrived at New York, but he likes to assume he crashed and burned as well.

“Bartholomew, can we please not talk about this?” Cas pleads. He can see Ash walking back toward the van and Bartholomew nods stiffly. The three men climb back in and Cas starts the engine.

“I am sorry,” Bartholomew says, voice hardly louder than the sound of the engine, “and I would be wary of being part of a story where have a personal interest.”

“I don’t have a personal _interest_ , I know persons involved,” Cas argues. “We’ll disclose it when you report it.” Bartholomew frowns, but doesn’t say anything more as they drive on.

 

*******

 

Dean cannot believe this is the guy he’s dating.

“We should’ve warned you, Dean-o,” Meg says, wiping away a tear of laughter. “Never play Cards Against Humanity with Cas.” Dean is still gasping with laughter. He would’ve never in a million years thought his sweet, bookish boyfriend could have such a twisted, perverted mind.

“Our little Cassie is a secret deviant,” Balthazar says, setting down the next black card. They are settled on the floor of Balthazar and Meg’s living room. Dean had briefly met Cas’ nieces, Hannah and Cecily, who shyly looked at him from behind Meg’s leg before being put to bed.

Dinner was a casual set up on the back patio of grilled chicken, finger food and moonshine.

“We’re rednecks, but we’re classy rednecks,” Meg had supplied. It was interesting to see Cas and his older brother Balthazar interacting. It was evident they’re related, with similar mannerisms and tics (Dean laughs to himself every time Balthazar squeezes at the bridge of his nose the same as Cas). Dean also caught some “older sibling” behaviors that he recognized in himself.

“Ok, next round. I’m Card Czar!” Cas orders, taking a large swig of his glass and flipping over the next black card. “‘Nothing says lovin’ like blank.’” Dean tries to control his grin, still thinking about Cas’ card last round ( _“People in Norway are in need of ___”, “Bigger, Blacker Dick”_ ), and sorts through the cards in his hand. Meg leans back against her husband’s shoulder. He tries to peek around her to get a glimpse at her cards.

“Quit trying to cheat!” She snaps playfully, pulling her cards toward her chest. Dean glances up, watching Cas. His boyfriend is smiley and more than a little drunk, which Dean has been told really doesn’t affect what cards he plays. His cheeks are slightly flushed and he keeps running his hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already is. Dean has to hold himself back from reaching across and pulling Cas in for a kiss.

He knows he’s in love with this guy, no doubt in his mind, and he might be freaking out about it.

Not about loving Cas, that’s amazing. No, Dean is freaking out about sex.

True to his word, Cas has taken it slow with Dean. Very slowly. They’d exchanged blow jobs, and hands jobs, but after a month and a half, Dean is definitely ready to take it further. As much reading and research as Dean has done, though, he feels like he should be more confident than he is. He’s so afraid of hurting Cas. He’s haunted by the memory one of his ex-girlfriends and him experimenting with anal sex. She’d found it so painful that Dean had barely gotten an inch in before she had put a stop to it.

Dean shakes his head, clearing his thoughts away, and glances at his cards. Meg and Balthazar have both played their cards and are looking at Dean expectantly. Dean shuffles through his hand, smiling to himself as he picks out his selection and sets it face-down on the carpet.

“Alright, let’s see what we have,” Cas slurs, picking up the first card. “Nothing says lovin’ like jerking off in a children’s pool full of tears.” Everyone chuckles softly. Cas giggles and rubs at the bridge of his nose.

“That’s good,” he mumbles. He grabs the second card and reads, “nothing says lovin’ like 50,000 volts straight to the nipples… Ok, I absolutely know whose this is!” He looks pointedly at Meg, who just gives him a tight smile as she sips her beer. He picks up the the last card, and snorts with laughter.

‘Um…” Cas tries to control the laugh in his voice, “nothing says lovin’ like licking things to claim them as your own.” Meg and Balthazar both laugh and Cas looks at Dean with a wry smile.

Dean gives Cas a questioning look, not sure what’s going through Cas’ head. Before he can ask, Cas reaches over, tilts his head to the side and licks a wide-stripe up the side of Dean’s neck. Meg and Balthazar hoot with laughter.

“That’s the winner,” Cas says, sitting back in his spot. Dean stares at him, dumbstruck before he’s bubbling with laughter as well.

“That was my card,” he says, raising his hand carefully.

“I think Castiel knew that, Dean,” Balthazar chuckles. “Meg and I have been playing with him for so long now, he normally knows exactly which cards are ours.”

“He wouldn’t know if you didn’t always make yours about masturbating,” Meg grouses playfully.

“I can’t help it if that’s where my mind wanders,” Balthazar shrugs and drains the rest of his wine glass.

“Dirty mind,” Meg points an accusing finger toward him.

“Pot meet kettle,” he counters. The baby monitor unexpectedly emits a vibration and the sound of a soft cry. Meg sighs and rises from the floor.

“Better check on Hannah,” she says. Balthazar gathers up the empty glasses, wordlessly questioning Cas and Dean if they’d like another. Both men shake their heads and watch as Balthazar walks towards the kitchen, leaving them alone.

Cas scoots backwards until he’s nestled in between Dean’s legs.

“You’re wasted aren’t you?” Dean chuckles. Cas nods lazily and lets his eyes slip shut.

“It’s not a school night,” Cas mumbles, digging himself further into Dean’s embrace. “You are so comfortable.” Dean takes Cas’ hands in his, brushing his thumbs over the outside of them. He trails his lips down the side of Cas’ face and neck, and venturing further, running his tongue down the soft skin of his throat. He feels the rumble of Cas’ soft laugh beneath his tongue.

“Getting back at me?” Cas asks.

“Maybe I’m claiming you as mine,” Dean mumbles, placing another soft kiss at the crook of Cas’ neck. Cas hums and turns his head to kiss Dean properly, lips eagerly meeting his.

Dean can’t get over everything about Cas: the way he smells, the way he tastes, how warm he is wrapped in Dean’s arms. Soft footsteps echo down the hall and Cas and Dean part just as Balthazar is reentering the room.

“Meg is going to nurse Hannah back down and after that I think we’re going to go to bed,” Balthazar says, yawning on the last word. “I don’t mean to kick you two out but…”

“Don’t worry about it, Balthazar,” Cas says as he and Dean rise to their feet. “We’ll show ourselves out.” Balthazar shakes Dean’s hand and gives Cas a warm squeeze on the shoulder as they walk to the door.

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Cas asks, leaning on Dean as they walk toward the Impala. “We can always call a cab?” Dean just shakes his head.

“I’m fine, Cas,” he says. “I stopped drinking over an hour ago, and I only had 2 beers before that.” Cas nods and takes Dean’s hand. He pulls him toward the Impala. When they reach the car, he presses Dean against it, capturing his lips in a kiss once more. He wraps his hands around Dean’s neck as his tongue eagerly explores Dean’s mouth.

“We need to get going,” Dean murmurs into the kiss. Cas separates from it and nods. He opens the door and slips into the front seat. Dean walks around the car and opens the driver’s side door. As soon as he’s in the seat, Cas is sliding up next to him planting drunken kisses along Dean’s jaw. Dean chuckles softly as he turns the engine, breath hitching as Cas’ hand wanders over his thigh and crotch.

“Cas,” Dean whines. “You trying to get me all worked for the drive home?”

“Want you so bad,” Cas murmurs, his lips floating over Dean’s. “Haven’t stopped thinking about it all night.” Cas’ hand cups the growing bulge beneath Dean’s jeans and he hisses in response.

“All I can think about,” Cas whispers in his ear, “is riding you like a bronco.” Cas words go right to Dean’s cock and he grips Cas’ hand, stilling him.

“Cas, not here,” Dean says. When he fucks this amazing man for the first time, he wants to at least have the comfort of a bed. Cas head falls forward, resting on Dean’s shoulder.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“I’m sorry, Cas, but-”

“No, no, it’s not that,” he sighs, lifting his head. “I forgot my phone inside.” Cas goes to open the passenger door, but Dean does it first.

“I’ll grab it,” he says, “you stay put.” Cas settles back into his seat and Dean exits the car. He makes his way back to the front door of the house. As he lifts his hand to knock, the door opens to reveal Balthazar with Cas’ phone in hand.

“Forget something?” He asks. Dean smiles gratefully and takes the phone from him, thanking him quietly. As he continues down the walkway, the phone vibrates in his hand. On instinct, Dean glances down at the phone. He stops in his tracks.

_Bartholomew: It was nice finally talking. I still care about you, Castiel. I always will. <3_

Dean’s stomach clenches as he reads the message, realizing a second too late he probably shouldn’t have. He feels like ice water has been poured into his veins and he looks to the car where Cas is sitting, head resting against the back of the seat.

Is Cas cheating on him? Who is this Bartholomew person? If it were a friend, Cas would’ve mentioned him, right?

It takes all of Dean’s willpower to move himself forward. His head swims with emotions: anger, disappointment, betrayal, sadness. He reaches the driver’s side door of the Impala and takes a deep breath, swallowing everything down. He opens the door and slides inside.

“Got my phone?” Cas asks as he lifts his head, voice warm and sleepy. Dean offers him the the phone without looking at him. He shifts the car into drive and pulls away from the curb.

 

*******

 

Castiel notices the tension instantly. They ride in silence, which is unusual. Normally Dean will chat, fiddle with the radio, drum along on the steering wheel, any number of things. Now, he stares straight ahead, not so subtly trying to keep his attention on the road and not on Cas. The frigid atmosphere sobers him abruptly.

Cas sighs and turns on his phone to check the time, noticing a message from Bartholomew. He frowns as he reads it; Bartholomew has no boundaries. He’s thinking of what he’s going to say when he sees the man next, when it hits him: Dean read the message.

Castiel’s blood goes cold.

“Dean-” He starts.

“I saw the text.” Dean says stiffly.

“I know you did.” Cas replies.

“I wasn’t snooping through your phone, I swear,” Dean continues, “but your phone went off while I was holding it and, and I don’t know, I just looked down out of habit.”

“Dean, please-”

“Just be honest with me, Cas,” Dean says stiffly. “If you… Look, when we agreed that we were dating, we agreed that we’re exclusive. I mean…” Dean runs a hand through his hair with a soft growl.

“Dean,” Cas says gently, “I can explain-”

“I mean, don’t tell me that it’s a friend!” Dean says quickly, voice rising. “That’s not the kind of text you send to a friend, just… Look, if you didn’t want to be exclusive, you could’ve been upfront with me, and I… Look, I can’t do that, ok? I don’t date casually, and if that’s what you’re looking for…” Dean trails off, eyes centered on the road.

“Dean,” Cas mumbles, “I can promise you it’s not how it looks.”

“Really? Because it looks pretty bad,” he snaps.

“I know,” he responds, “and I owe you a complete explanation.” Dean glances at him expectantly.

“So?”

“Not here,” Cas says, glancing down at his hands nervously. “It’s a complicated story and I’d rather tell you when you don’t have to focus on driving.” Dean’s expression is stony, but he nods.

“Alright,” he says coolly.

“But I can promise you I am not cheating on you,” Cas says, tentatively taking Dean’s hand. “Please believe me.” He gives Dean’s a small squeeze and Dean looks at him, green eyes pained and doubtful.

“You swear?” He mumbles.

“Absolutely,” Cas says. A small, sad smile crosses Dean’s face and he gives Cas’ hand a squeeze in return.

“Alright,” Dean says, “I believe you.”

“Thank you Dean,” Cas replies with a hopeful smiles. Cas thinks for a moment before scooting closer to Dean, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder. He breathes a soft sigh of relief as Dean leans his head against Cas’.

He silently hopes that Dean will understand everything.


	9. Chapter 9

They drive in silence. Cas’ stomach is completely in knots. Logically, he knows he has no reason to be nervous; he’s done nothing wrong. Yet the thought of bringing all of this baggage to the surface rubs him completely the wrong way.

They pull up against the curb in front of Cas’ house. He exits the car first and stops, watching Dean sit behind the wheel motionless. For a brief moment, Cas thinks that perhaps Dean will drive down the block and out of Cas’ life forever, but Dean shifts and opens his door, getting out of the Impala.

They walk side-by-side down the path, conspicuous space between them. Cas moves past Dean and unlocks the front door. He drops his keys on the entryway table as Dean follows him inside.

“Where do you want to do this?” Cas asks, a little despondently. Dean shrugs and looks away.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles. “Living room, I guess.”

“Do you want a beer or something to drink?” Cas asks. He knows he himself could use one and walks toward the kitchen. Dean shakes his head and steps into Cas’ living room, crashing down onto his sofa. He sits with his elbows on his knees, watching Cas through the doorway.

Cas grabs a beer from the fridge and twists off the top, taking a long sip. He gathers his thoughts before coming back into the living room. Dean’s eyes follow him.

“So?” Dean asks. Cas settles into the chair opposite him.

"About a year and a half ago, I did something really stupid,” Cas starts. “I started dating a coworker."

"This Bartholomew guy," Dean supplies. Cas nods, leaning forward.

"Yeah. I swore I would never ‘shit where I eat’ as they say, but,” Cas shrugs, “I was thinking with the wrong head, I guess.” Cas gives Dean a soft smile, but receives only a serious nod in return. Cas clears his throat and continues.

“For a few months it was really good," he says, "but it became... I don't know, it didn't feel right. We had been friends before, but we didn’t work well as partners. There were a lot of issues, our personalities clashed-"

"Problems in the bedroom?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly. Cas returns the smile and nods reluctantly.

"Yes," he admits. "He was... _is_ much more experienced sexually than myself. We, um… we both wanted to bottom and well, he _always_ got his way.” Dean nods minutely and Cas relaxes a little more, ready to continue.

“After about six months, I’d had my fill and broke up with him. It was bad.” Cas says, rolling his beer bottle between his fingers. “I tried to avoid a nasty fight and did it over text message.” Dean snorts incredulously.

“Did it work?” He asks.

“Not even a little,” he answers. “Anyway, after the break up I remembered this promise he’d made that if he moved up news markets, like to Chicago or Miami or something, he’d take me with. He’d told me this before we dated so I asked if the offer still stood. He said that it did and I thought things were fine… until he actually did get called up.”

“Wait, wait,” Dean says, holding up a hand, “what do you mean ‘moved up markets?’”

“Um, news anchors in smaller markets like Jacksonville, can sometimes get called up to larger ones,” Cas explains. “That’s what he does, by the way, he’s an anchor.” Dean’s face twists in concentration.

“Wait, is this Bartholomew Harris we’re talking about?” Cas nods. He’s surprised Dean didn’t pick up on that earlier. “I’m guessing he didn’t take you with him?” Dean supplies.

“Nope,” Cas responds, rising to his feet, suddenly anxious about spilling the entire story. “I was upset, with good reason I think. I mean…” Cas trails off and shakes his head in exasperation. “I know it’s dumb to expect that kind of thing after a breakup, but… look, he said the job was still mine and I was dumb enough to believe him.” Cas rubs a hand through his hair and flops down on the couch. Dean reaches out and takes Cas’ hand and the action causes relief to run through Cas.

“So I decided to send him a very easy-going email asking what happened. I just wanted some sort of explanation. Was there a change or somthing?” Cas takes a swig of his beer. “In response, I received a very detailed, very belligerent email detailing my failings as a producer, and a person, and a boyfriend.” Cas laughs humorlessly at the memory. “He actually wrote that bottoming for me wasn’t much of an effort since I ‘brought nothing to the table.’” Dean doesn’t laugh, but his face softens further.

“That’s it? He wrote you a nasty email?” Dean asks. Cas shakes his head.

“An email which he CC’d to almost the entire company right before he left for New York.” Dean’s eyes widen. “It did not look good for either of us, but I was the one left holding the bag. I was the one who had to face all the blowback.” Cas sighs, “my reputation was ruined, I was written up, I lost a lot of credibility. It’s taken nearly 8 months to get everything back in order and now he is back and… I can’t seem to take two steps without running into him.”

“I’m so sorry, Cas,” Dean mumbles. He slips his hand into Cas’. He places his beer bottle on the coffee table and moves his hand over Dean’s. “Is this asshole stalking you or something?” Traces of anger are unmistakable in his voice. Cas shakes his head.

“No, no, he’s just… He keeps finding ways to wedge himself into my life. He keeps wanting to work with me or tries to talk about my personal life. Or you.” Something flickers across Dean’s face.

“Me?”

“Yeah, he, uh, he heard me talking to you on the phone and keeps bringing you up,” Cas says.

“He’s not being inappropriate with you, is he?” Dean asks, squeezing Cas’ hand tightly. Cas shakes his head, but his expression is still pinched in thought.

“Not… overtly,” he mutters. “I mean, everything he does, if I brought it up, could be easily explained away.”

“Yeah, but Cas I can’t imagine that any corporate office would want to deal with a sexual harassment charge.” Cas laughs bitterly and throws himself against the back of the couch.

“Even if I did Dean,” Cas says, “this guy is teflon. I mean, my God, he called a senator a twatwaffle on national TV and _still_ got hired back. I don’t think anything can touch him.” Dean wraps an arm around Cas’ shoulder and pulls him close. Cas looks over and smiles at Dean gratefully.

“I sorry to make you worry like that,” he says. “I just felt like it was a bad idea to bring up past relationships in a current one, y’know?” Dean nods and presses a soft kiss to Cas’ forehead.

“Sorry for freaking out like that,” he mumbles. Cas snorts and shakes his head.

“No, no, that was hardly freaking out.” He looks up at Dean again, “thank you for listening.” Dean smiles and leans toward Cas, kissing him deeply. Cas kisses back lazily, his hand slowly moving up, cupping Dean’s head and pulling him closer. Dean’s arm circles around Castiel, tugging him into his lap and deepening the kiss.

“You like this position, don’t you?” Cas mumbles against Dean’s lips. He draws back and smiles up at Cas.

“I like looking at you,” Dean says. He brushes a hand tenderly over the side of Cas’ face and draws him in for another kiss, hungrier this time. Cas inhales deeply and shifts himself in Dean’s lap. He loves the feeling of being wrapped up in Dean’s arms, so secure and cared for. Dean’s hands ruck up the back of his shirt, cool fingertips tracing over his skin. Dean mumbles something against Cas’ neck. He stiffens instantly, unsure if he heard him correctly.

“What did you say?” Cas asks, gently pressing Dean back by the shoulder. Dean looks up at Cas, expression so open and vulnerable.

“I said I love you,” Dean admits quietly, gaze locked on Cas. Castiel feels like all the air has been punched out of his lungs. He is unable to answer. Instead he moves forward, attacking Dean with a greedy kiss. He pulls himself as close as he can, wanting to take in as much as Dean as possible.

“Love you too,” Cas finally mutters when he comes up for air. The words seem to set off something in Dean. He grabs Cas roughly by his haunches, rising to his feet and wrapping Cas’ legs around his waist. They walk unsteadily toward the bedroom, alternately running into walls and trying not to crash into anything breakable. Cas latches his mouth onto Dean’s neck, nibbling lightly and enjoying the breathy sighs in response. They make it to the bedroom and Cas flicks on the lamp. The cat lays in the middle of the bed, her head lifting curiously at the disruption.

“Grace, shoo!” Cas says, extracting himself from Dean’s hold, gesturing for the cat to move off of the duvet. She stretches languidly before walking slowly to the edge and jumping off the side.  

Dean comes up from behind, lips tracing over the back of Cas’ neck as his hands wrap  around his middle. Cas lets his head fall back and he feels Dean’s fingers expertly working on the fly of his jeans.

“Dean,” Cas gasps as Dean’s hand slips inside his boxers, wrapping around his thickening cock and beginning to stroke.

“Want you so bad,” Dean mumbles, mouth trailing down his neck. Dean’s thumb swipes over the head of Cas’ cock, smearing precome across it.

“Then fuck me,” Cas says plainly. He feels the rumble of a soft laugh rising through Dean’s chest.

“Cutting to the chase, huh Cas?” He chides. Castiel turns and faces Dean, giving him a wry look.

“I think I have been very patient,” he replies. “And I’m sorry, but I can’t focus with so many clothes between us.”

“As you wish,” Dean laughs, tugging his shirts up over his head. They make quick work of the rest of their clothes, shedding everything before scrambling onto the bed. Cas pulls Dean on top of him and into a kiss. He moves his legs between Deans, enjoying the friction of their cocks brushing against one another.

“Need you Dean,” Cas murmurs, wrapping a leg around Dean’s and pulling him closer. Dean responds with a tender kiss, hot tongue exploring Cas’ mouth. He feels Dean wrap his calloused palm around both their cocks, sliding up and down smoothly. Cas moans low into the kiss, causing him to pick up speed. Cas is so close, but he doesn’t want it like this.

“Dean,” he groans as he pulls away, grasping his arm. Dean looks down at him, green eyes dark with arousal.

“Do you have any…?” He trails off.  

“In the table,” Cas says, nodding toward the nightstand on his right. Dean rolls off Cas and reaches over, pulling open the drawer. Cas props himself up on his elbows, watching Dean rummage through it for a moment before pulling a condom and small bottle of lube from it.

“I’ve been reading up on… um, how to,” Dean stammers as he scoots back next to Cas.

“Do you want me to show you how I like it?” Cas asks. Dean gives a small, stiff nod. Cas holds out his hand.

“Pour some on my fingers,” he instructs. Dean snaps open the cap, squirting a small amount of lube on Cas’ fingers. “I like to start slow, just one finger.” Cas’ hand wanders southward, a single digit circling his hole. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back against the pillow. Dean places feather-light kisses over his collarbone and chest and the sensation combined with opening himself up is mind-blowing. Dean’s hand travels over Cas’s stomach and to his groin, lightly circling his shaft.

“What else?” Dean hotly whispers into Cas’ ear. There is a soft ‘click’, which Cas knows must be the lube bottle.

“I like-” Cas gasps in surprise as Dean’s hand grazes his, “I like to add a second after a little while.” Slick fingers meet Cas’ and he shivers at the feeling of the thick digits circling his entrance. Cas adds a finger, continuing to work himself open. Dean nuzzles against his neck as his own fingers tentatively move to join Castiel’s. He rocks hips against Cas’ side, searching for some relief for his own straining cock.

“Do you want to try?” Cas asks softly. Dean hums in the affirmative and Cas withdraws his hands. Dean hesitates for a second, finger’s resting at Cas’ entrance, before pressing forward. Cas winces momentarily before relaxing into the touch.

“Love you Cas,” Dean mumbles as he works his fingers in and out of him.

“Love you too,” Cas sighs. “More Dean. Please.” Dean’s lips find his as he inserts a third finger. He widens and scissors his hand, stretching him further. Dean’s finger grazes his prostate and Cas arches off the bed with a cry.

“Fuck baby,” Dean growls, biting into Cas’ shoulder and flexing his fingers again.

“I’m ready Dean,” Cas pleads. “Want you.” Dean kisses him lightly and withdraws his fingers and Cas whines at the loss. Dean shifts on the bed and moves between Cas’ legs. He quickly rolls on the condom and slicks himself up. Cas lets his legs fall to the side as Dean crawls forward. He presses the head of his cock against Cas’ hole, entering him hesitantly.

“Keep going Dean,” Cas encourages. “You don’t have to be so gentle with me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean huffs into Cas’ shoulder. Cas reaches out and cups Dean’s face in his hands.

“You won’t,” Cas murmurs, kissing Dean hard. He gasps in surprise as Dean presses the rest of the way in.

“Fuck,” Dean groans, letting his forehead rest on Cas’. Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, settling into the full feeling of Dean being inside of him.

‘It’s ok,” he whispers. “You can move Dean.” Dean nods quickly and shifts back before thrusting into Cas once more. They rock into each other, Cas meeting Dean’s thrusts with a cant of his hips. Cas runs his hands over Dean’s back, digging his nails into the freckled skin.

“Fuckin A’ Cas,” Dean growls, hands clenching tightly onto his shoulders. Cas laughs soft and pulls Dean in for a kiss once more.

“More Dean. Please!” He begs. Dean sits back on his haunches and grips Cas’ thighs, tugging him forward. He picks up his pace, sparks of pleasure shooting through Cas everytime he brushes past his prostate.

“God Dean,” Cas cries out and grips at the bedsheets. “Touch me please.” Dean once again moves over Cas. He grabs one of Cas’ thighs as he fucks into him enthusiastically. His other hand wraps around Cas’ cock, matching his own movements.

It’s only takes a few flicks of Dean’s wrists before Cas is arching his back and spilling over his stomach and Dean’s hand. Dean’s thrusts become erratic and soon he too climaxes with a grunt before dropping bonelessly over Castiel.

They lay in sated silence for a long moment, catching their breath. Cas whimpers as Dean pulls out of him, rolling onto the bed beside him.

“Wow,” Dean whispers, nuzzling into Cas’ shoulder. Cas giggles softly.

“I’ll take that as a stamp of approval,” Cas teases. Dean wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him around to face him.

“You bet your ass it is,” Dean mumbles as he leans in for a kiss. “Love you Cas. So much.”

“I Love you too,” Cas replies, kissing Dean tenderly. Cas would be willing to stay like this all night, if not for cooling mess between them.

“We should get cleaned up,” Cas says reluctantly as he pulls back from Dean’s lips. Dean nods and uncurls his arms from around Cas, sitting up in the bed. Cas leans up on one elbow, admiring Dean’s bare ass as he walks away. As he slips through the door, Castiel falls back onto his pillow. He’s warm, and happy, a little sore and most importantly, in love.

Grace noiselessly jumps onto the bed, carefully walking over Cas. He reaches out and scratches at her ears.

“What do you think Grace? Can I keep him?” Grace mews and nudges at his hand, begging for more attention. “I’m going to take that as a ‘yes.’” He hears the sink shutting off and Dean reappears in the doorway a moment later with a washcloth in his hand.

“I figured you’d want to get cleaned up too,” he says, handing it to Cas. He wipes the stray lines of come from his stomach and drops the cloth on the floor. Dean settles back onto the bed as Castiel pulls the duvet over both of them. He leans toward the nightstand, switching off the lamp. Dean presses himself against Cas’ back, draping his outside arm loosely over his middle. Cas lightly entwines their fingers and smiles to himself.

“What made you decide tonight?” Cas asks ruefully.

“Hmm?” Dean asks sleepily.

“What made you decide to say ‘I love you’ tonight?” Cas asks, flipping over to face Dean. Dean shrugs lazily.

“I guess since you said it first,” he answers. Cas straightens and looks at Dean quizzically.

“I didn’t say it first,” he contends.

“Yes, you did,” Dean replies with a yawn. Cas snorts lightly.

“Uh… Dean, you said ‘I love you’ first.” Dean raises a doubtful brow.

“Oh really?” He says. “Because as I recall you licked me.”

“What?” Cas asks, thoroughly confused.

“ _‘Nothing says lovin’ like licking something and claiming it as your own,’_ ” Dean quotes. “You licked me right after.” Cas’ jaw drops open and Dean smirks triumphantly. He can’t remember what he was thinking when he drunkenly licked Dean’s neck outside of laying claim to his boyfriend. Maybe he _was_ subconsciously making a declaration of love.

“I guess I did say it first,” Cas admits with a chuckle, “although technically I didn’t say it first, vocally.”

“Splitting hairs,” Den replies with a shrug. He pulls Cas under his arm, his head pillowed on his chest. “We should get to sleep.” Dean yawns again and settles into bed.

“You’re right,” Cas says, nestling under Dean’s arm. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“ ‘Night Cas,” he slurs sloppily. Cas lays awake, listening to Dean’s breathing even out as he falls asleep.

“Definitely keeping you,” he murmurs.


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel exits the Impala and stretches enthusiastically. They’d spent just over three hours of driving to get here and Castiel was relieved to get out of the car finally. He stares at the house in front of him. It’s not as large and intimidating as he’d expected. His nerves are on edge, and he can’t bring himself to move away from the safety of the Impala. He feels Dean’s hand slip into his and he relaxes a little into the touch.

“Nervous?” Dean whispers. Cas gives an amused sigh.

“Of course I am,” He says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I don’t remember the last time I was introduced to someone’s parents.”

“You’re going to do fine,” Dean reassures. When Dean had brought up spending a weekend at his folks’ house in St. Petersburg, he’d done it so casually, Castiel wondered if perhaps he hadn’t heard him correctly.

Cas gives him a worried gaze. “This is a big thing, Dean. What if I fuck it up or-” Dean gently places a hand on Castiel’s waist and presses him against the car.

“You’re amazing,” Dean says, kissing Cas sweetly. “They are going to love you. There’s no way they couldn’t.” He leans forward, kissing Cas again, this time deeper. Cas gives a pleased hum and wraps his arms around Dean’s neck. His fingers trail lightly over the soft hairs at the nape.

“How are you so calm about this?” Cas asks. He can’t quite grasp how in a matter of weeks Dean can from coming out to his family to introducing them to his boyfriend without any sort of stress.

“Don’t get me wrong Cas,” Dean shrugs. “I’m nervous, I am, but I don’t know… I feel like the biggest hurdle was just telling them I was dating a guy. You’re the easy part.” Cas squints his eyes in confusion and stares at Dean.

“You know what I mean!” Dean laughs. “And besides, when it comes right down to it I’m an adult, I’m self-sufficient. If they have a problem with me or who I love,” Dean dips in for a quick kiss, “it’s their loss.” Castiel smiles at Dean, but remains doubtful. As much as Dean talks about his family and as close-knit as they seem, he can’t imagine Dean choosing him over them.

Dean takes his hand and they head down the cobblestone walkway toward the house. As soon as they hit the large wraparound porch, the screen door opens and an older blonde woman steps out. She’s dressed casually, barefoot in shorts and a blouse and her long hair is pulled back loosely.

“Dean!” She exclaims as she makes her way down the steps. She holds her arms out and Dean envelops her in a hug.

“You must be Castiel,” she says when she pulls away. “I’m Mary, Dean’s mom.” She offers her hand in his direction. Cas immediately notices the resemblance between her and Dean. Both have the same jawline, same bright green eyes, easy smile and freckles, although Mary’s seem to be more pronounced, no doubt from time in the sun.

“Please, call me Cas,” he replies, shaking her hand. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” Mary says. “We’ve heard a lot about you. Come on inside, we’re just getting ready to start grilling.” Dean and Cas follow Mary into the house. Chatter and laughter echo through the house.

“Sam, Jess,” Mary calls out as she leads them down the hall. “Dean and Cas are finally here.” Cas is taken by surprise as a very tall man appears in the hallway. A smaller blonde girl appears beside him and he places a hand possessively on the small of her back.

“Hey guys!” The man says. He turns his attention toward Cas, “I’m Sam, this is Jess.” The blonde girl waves lightly and smiles at Cas.

“Sam is my little brother, if you can believe it,” Dean adds, moving toward Sam and slapping him on the shoulder.

“Very nice to finally meet you Sam,” Cas says, shaking his hand. “Dean talks about you a lot.”

“Well, whatever he says, it’s only 60% true,” Sam offers.

“Your dad is out back warming up the grill,” Mary interjects. “Would you guys like any drinks? I have beer, wine, diet coke, let’s see...” She begins to dig through the fridge.

“I’ll just take whatever beer you’ve got, please,” Dean says. He looks at Cas questioningly.

“The same,” he adds. She hands them each a bottle of Corona.

“If you want, I might have a lime or-”

“We’re good Mom. Thank you,” Dean smiles sincerely. They lean against the island in the middle of the kitchen and sip their drinks.

“So Cas,” Sam begins, pointing to himself and Jess. “We’re dying to know: Did you _really_ get Dean inside a helicopter?” Dean flushes deeply, looking away, and Mary’s head pops up in surprise.

“You’re kidding?” She scoffs, raising an eyebrow. “Dean in a helicopter?” Cas nods.

“Yeah, I thought Dean would enjoy it after he got all excited when I mentioned chopper four,” he says. “Had I known he was afraid of flying, I would’ve thought twice.”

“But you actually rode in it Dean?” Mary says in disbelief, as she pulls a large dish out of the oven. “You must be a miracle worker Cas.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Dean mumbles in embarrassment.

“Not that big a deal?!” Mary chuckles. “We almost had to leave this one in Japan when he was 8 years old because he refused to board the plane.”

“Hey, a lot can happen on a 20-hour flight,” Dean says in his defense.

“I swear, I thought he was going to have a panic attack in the terminal,” she continues.

“Mom,” Dean groans

“So you work for one of the new stations?” Jess pipes up. Cas nods as he takes a drink.

“Yeah, Action News,” he replies. “I’m a segment producer. I put together those side stories on the news.” Jess nods quietly in understanding.

“Sounds like a fun job,” Mary says. They drift into easy conversation as Cas talks about the station. He’s beginning to wonder why he was even worried. Both Sam and Jess are genuinely friendly and inquisitive. Mary, while clearly still adjusting to the situation, is nothing if not hospitable and welcoming to Cas.

He feels Dean’s fingers trail against his palm and grasps at his hand, giving it a loving squeeze.

“So, Cas, Dean told us his side of the story on how you guys met,” Sam says with a mischievous smile. “I want to hear your take.”

“Oh, I haven’t heard this,” Mary says, settling onto a stool next to the kitchen islands. Dean looks at Cas expectantly and Cas is suddenly very aware he’s on the spot.

‘Well, we met at a restaurant,” he begins. “I was there alone and Dean had been stood up, right?” Dean sips at his beer and nods.

“Anyway,” Cas continues, “he tried to offer me his pager and-”

“Mary are the steaks ready?” A deep voice rumbles through the house, soon followed by a large man. Cas doesn’t have to be told that this is Dean’s dad. Despite the fact that they share fewer physical attributes than him and Mary, Cas can pick many of Dean’s physical quirks out in the way his dad carries himself.

As soon as he sees Cas, the older man goes quiet and his expression is unreadable. He crosses the room to his wife.

‘Is this…?” He begins, not taking his eyes off of Cas.

“John, this is Cas,” Mary says diplomatically. “Cas, this is my husband John.” John gives a silent, curt nod to Castiel and offers and awkward handshake.

“Dean, how’re you doing?” He says, turning to face him. He holds an arm out. Dean  reluctantly drops Cas’ hand as his dad pulls him in for an clumsy one-armed hug. Mary pulls a tray of raw steaks from the fridge and hands them to John.

“I’ll get these started and then we can eat in about 20 minutes,” John says as he turns and heads back toward the back yard. Jess and Sam begin opening cupboards and drawers, pulling out plates and place-settings. Dean steps back next to Cas and takes his hand once again, bringing it up to his lips and planting a kiss on the knuckles..

“See, easy,” Dean says quietly, giving Cas an encouraging shoulder bump. “Could have gone a _whole_ lot worse.” Cas nods and smiles sadly. He feels a hand on his arm and turns to see Mary.

“Don’t worry about him,” she offers. “He’s like that with everyone.”

“She’s right,” Jess adds. “He barely said two words to me the first time I met him.” Cas nods. He appreciates their words, but it doesn’t much help the feel of rejection bubbling up in his stomach. Castiel knows he doesn’t need John’s approval, but some part of him wants to be accepted, if only to fulfill the silly notion of having the in-laws’ blessing.

Cas quickly buries any hurt feelings and smiles at Dean, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he says softly before turning to Mary. “If there’s anything can help with?” Mary directs Cas and Dean to set the trivets and hot dishes out on the dining room table as she finishes dicing tomatoes for the salad.

 

* * *

Dinner goes well. Mary makes everyone grasp hands and mumbles a short prayer before they tuck into their dinners. Dean chews happily, watching Castiel hum in enjoyment as he takes a bite of steak. He’ll admit, despite the upbeat facade, he felt there was a real possibility that his dad would bar Cas from the house. Minute, yes, but still there.

Sam rambles on about some case that got dropped on his desk at the last minute and Dean slips his hand beneath the table, squeezing Cas’ thigh. In a moment of frogginess, he let’s his fingers travel inward tracing along his inseam. Dean gets a giddy thrill at Cas’ soft intake of breath.

“So Cas,” Mary starts, causing Dean to instantly jerk his hand back. “Are you from Florida originally?” Cas nods as he chews.

“Um, sort of. I might as well be,” he replies. “We moved here when I was 15.”

“From where?” She asks. Cas waves his hand absently.

“Everywhere,” he answers with a soft chuckle. “My dad was in the Navy.”

“So you were a military kid too?” Mary chides, looking pointedly at Dean. Dean gives his mom a loving, although exasperated look.

“Yeah, we moved around a lot,” Cas supplies. “Let’’s see, we lived in California, Virginia, Maine-”

“So your Dad was a sailor?” John interrupts. Cas looks catches his eye.

“Yeah,” he says hesitantly.

“What was his rate?” Dean snorts lightly. His dad always does this when he meets someone even vaguely associated with the military, even 10 years retired.

“He was a medical officer actually,” Cas replies easily.

“How does your father feel about you being gay?” John says abruptly. The entire table goes silent. Dean glares at his father in anger. He opens his mouth, about to tell him off when Cas pipes up.

“Actually, he never knew,” Cas answers. “My father was killed in Afghanistan in 2002.” Cas glances down at his plate and continues eating. Dean turns and looks at Cas, dumbstruck. He knew that Cas’ father had been in the Navy and he knew he passed away, but he never asked about the circumstances.

John’s expression softens noticeably. “Sorry for your loss,” he mutters, turning his attention back to his food.

“I am so sorry,” Mary says, reaching out and squeezing Cas’ hand. Cas nods and mumbles a thank you.

“These steaks are excellent,” Cas says, obviously trying to direct the conversation to a lighter topic. It’s clear no one at the table is going to stop him. “I can see where Dean’s gets his culinary skill.”  John looks up and points to his wife.

“It’s all Mary,” he says. “She does all the seasoning and marinating. I just throw them on the fire.”

“Yes, but you do a wonderful job of it,” Mary offers. “You two need to come here in the winter when John makes his venison chili. It’s incredible.” The tension begins to slip away and everyone begins to relax. Dean’s hand finds Cas’ beneath the table and doesn’t let go for the rest of the meal.

 

* * *

 

After Dinner, Sam and Jess help clear the dishes away while Cas and Dean put away leftovers.

“How many people did your mother think were coming?” Cas asks, looking over the multitude of tupperware containers ready to be stored away. Dean chuckles lightly as he scoops roasted vegetables from the pan into a container.

“Old habits die hard Cas,” he says. “Me and Sam could’ve put away everything you see in high school. Mom just got used to cooking this way. Don’t worry, she’s going to send us home with plenty tomorrow.” Cas nods and continues putting lids on the boxes. Dean places his hand on Cas’ arm and stops him.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Dean’s face is pinched in concern. “How come you never told me about your dad?” Cas glances down and shrugs.

“I told you he’d passed,” he replies.

“Yeah, but you never told me he died in in the Middle East,” Dean says quietly. “I mean, it’s your business and all, but… Look, I don’t want you feeling like you have to keep something from me.” He hopes Sam and Jess won’t hear them. Cas takes Dean’s hand in his.

“I’m not trying to keep stuff, Dean. It’s depressing is all,” Cas says gently. “And… and people get awkward when they find out you have a dead parent. It gets even worse when they find out it was in combat.” Dean frowns and rubs a hand up and down Cas’ back.

“How’d it happen?” Dean asks, quickly adding, “if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Helicopter went down outside of Kandahar,” Cas replies stiffly. Dean’s eyes widen.

“Oh geez Cas, I’m so sorry,” Dean says. Cas shakes his head and holds up his hands.

“Dean, really, I’m fine,” Cas says with a wan smile. “It was 12 years ago. I miss him, sure, but I’ve had plenty of time to grieve. It’s ok.” Dean nods in understanding.

“Alright,” Dean says. “I… I wish you would’ve told me.” Cas turns to face him and takes his hand.

“You have your own crap to worry about,” Cas says with a wry smirk. “The last thing you need is stuff from my past that I’ve already come to terms with.” He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Dean’s lips. There is a heavy cough and they separate quickly as John steps into the kitchen.

“You guys ready? Mary’s pulling an icebox pie out for dessert.” Dean’s eyes brighten and he quickly begins shoving containers into the fridge. Sam and Jess dry their hands and follow John out of the kitchen. Dean places the last tub in the fridge and shuts the door.

“C’mon,” he says pulling Castiel by the hand out of the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the evening is spent leisurely enjoying dessert and playing scrabble. Cas takes an early lead, but is soon going head to head with Sam.

“I should’ve warned you about that giant lawyer brain of his,” Dean comments after Sam plays all of his letters on a triple word score.

“It’s only because Sam cheats,” Jess grouses.

“‘Quetzals’ is a completely legal word,” Sam argues. “It’s the national bird of Guatemala.”

“Is that even English?” Dean asks, taking a sip of his beer. Mary and John rise from the table simultaneously.

“If you kids don’t mind, I think us old folks are going to head to bed.” She turns toward Sam and Dean. “As far as sleeping arrangements, you two can share Sam’s room. Cas, you can be in Dean’s, and Jess can have the downstairs guest room.” She leans down and gives both of her sons a good night hug before heading toward the stairs.

As soon as they are out of earshot, Dean gives Cas a sympathetic look.

“Sorry about that. My folks can be a little… old fashioned,” he says.

“Dean, it’s fine,” Cas says lightly. “I understand.”

“It’s not you guys,” Jess says, scooping up rows of scrabble tiles into the bag. “We’ve been dating for two years and they still make us stay in separate rooms.”

“Guess you’re going to have to put a ring on it if you want to snuggle with your girlfriend Sam,” Dean jokes, slapping him on the back. Sam gives a surprised, choked cough and Jess just smiles to herself. Cas chuckles softly as they pick up the rest of the game.

 

* * *

 

The four move into the living room to watch TV. They are half-way through an episode of M*A*S*H when Cas notices Dean’s head slumping onto his shoulder, eyes drifting closed.

“I think we better get to bed,” Cas says.

“Hmm?” Sam’s eyes flutter open. Cas shakes Dean’s shoulder gently. “Dean… Dean wake up.” Dean groans and curls into the side of the couch.

“C’mon Dean,” Cas says. He pulls a groggy Dean to his feet as they both wave a good night to Sam and Jess. Cas pulls him up the stairs and to his room. As soon as he opens the door, Dean flops gracelessly onto the bed.

“Shit,” Dean mutters without opening his eyes. “Our bags are still in the Impala.” He pushes himself up with an irritated grunt. Cas presses on his shoulder gently.

“You stay here,” he orders. “I’ll grab them. Keys?” Dean smiles wanly and digs into his jeans, pulling out his car keys and handing them to Cas.

“Be right back,” Cas says. He hurries down the stairs, quickly glancing into the living room where Sam and Jess are draped over each other.

He opens the back door and descends the porch steps. A single porch light casts a yellow glow over the backyard. Cas grabs his and Dean’s duffle bags out from the trunk and slams it shut.

As he walks back toward the house, he yelps in surprise as a cigarette lighter flicks on.

“Oh jeez,” Cas gasps. In the brief light of the flame, he catches sight of John Winchester’s profile.

“Hey Cas,” John says, a cigarette perched between his lips. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He holds the cigarette to the flame and puffs a couple times, lighting it.

“It’s alright,” Cas tries to tamp down his nervousness, but the entire night, there hasn’t been one moment where he hasn’t been around John without some kind of buffer.

John glances down at the cigarette in his hand. “I know it’s a filthy habit. Mary doesn’t let me smoke in the house.” Castiel isn’t quite sure how to respond, so he nods stiffly.

“Cas, do you mind if we talk for a minute?” It’s a question, but the way John says it, it sounds like an order.

“I actually was just bringing in Dean’s and my stuff for bed,” he mumbles, holding up the two duffle bags.

“It’ll just take a minute,” John says. He sits down on a rustic wooden bench outside the door and pats the seat next to him for Cas. Cas swallows nervously and walks up the stairs, sitting down apprehensively next to John.

“Is that true about you dad?” John asks, leaning forward with his elbows perched on his knees. Cas gives him a perturbed look and nods.

“Uh, yeah,” he answers. “His helicopter crashed.”

“How old were you?”

“19,” Cas answers after a second. John nods.

“I’ll be honest with you Cas, I don’t like this,” he says after a long moment. “I would much rather Dean be dating a girl. Hell, he always has dated girls! This whole … gay thing,” he gestures toward Cas, “I never expected this.”

“To be fair, Sir,” Cas Interrupts, adopting the terms of respect he hasn’t used since childhood, “Dean isn’t gay.” John gives a short caustic laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, bisexual, whatever,” he says dismissively. “He’s fucking a guy, either way.” Cas startles at the unexpected language but quickly schools his features once more.

“Anyway, like I said, this is never what I expected, or wanted,” he emphasizes, briefly leaning in toward Cas, “for either of my boys. If Dean insists on continuing… this, his life is only going to be made more difficult.” John silently takes a drag of the cigarette and stares into space.

“I don’t think I’m following,” Cas says carefully.

“Aside from your dad, does the rest of your family know your gay?”

“I’m not…” Cas starts to explain what pansexuaility is, but shakes his head when he receives a side-eye glare from John. “Yes, they know my preferences.”

“And how do they feel about it?” The question stops Cas as he considers it.

“My mom… doesn’t care. She’s kind of in her own world,” Cas admits sadly. He doesn’t want to get into the details of Amelia Novak’s journey to “find herself” following her husband’s death. “We don’t see a lot of her. My brother and his wife are very supportive.” John nods and takes another drag.

“Dean’s an adult,” John says. “Who he sleeps with is really not my business. No matter how I feel on the matter.” Cas sits up straight in surprise.

“John, I…”

“And it’s clear that he loves you,” John continues, causing Cas’ mouth to clap shut. “Even if I don’t agree with his… lifestyle, I didn’t spend 25 years defending my country so my kid couldn’t be free to be everything he wanted to be,” he looks at Cas wryly. “Even a homosexual.” Cas is struck dumb; never in a million years would he have expected a “welcome to the family” speech to be this… strange.  

“Uh… Thank you?” Cas says warily. John stubbs out his cigarette and slaps Cas’ shoulder roughly before rising to his feet and muttering “goodnight.”

Cas sits there in stunned silence for a few minutes  with a strange smile on his face. If he didn’t know better, he thinks he might’ve just gotten his boyfriend’s dad’s blessing. At least, in his own strange way.

He stands up and quietly walks back into the house. Sam and Jess are fast asleep on the couch while the TV blares in the background. He hauls the duffle bags up the stairs toward Dean’s room.

“Dean?” Cas says softly, knocking on the door. He hears the creek of bedsprings and the door opens to reveal Dean shirtless and barefoot, only dressed in jeans. There’s one twin bed against the wall and an inflatable air mattress askew on the floor.

“Sorry Cas, I think I might’ve dozed off,” Dean says with a yawn. Cas moves past him, stepping over the air mattress, and into the room, still dazed by his earlier conversation.

“I think… I think your dad just gave me his approval,” Cas says. Dean looks at him, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“What?”

“Your dad,” Cas starts, dropping down onto one of the two twin beds. “I was getting the bags and he was outside smoking. He said he wanted to talk to me.” Dean sits down beside Cas.

“What did he say?” He asks, smoothing a hand up and down Cas’ back. Cas shakes his head, trying to wrap his mind around the conversation he just had.

“He said he didn’t like the fact that you were fucking a guy, but he didn’t serve his country so so you couldn’t have the freedom to be with whoever you want.” A slow, amused grin spread over Castiel’s face as a laugh bubbles up from within him.

“Hmm,” Dean says, smirking. “Well, that’s good.” Cas turns and looks at Dean in surprise.

“That’s… great Dean!” Cas laughs, trying to keep his voice down to avoid waking anyone. “That’s amazing!” He throws his arms around Dean and hugs him tightly. Castiel had been deeply worried about Dean’s family. He never wanted it to come down to Dean choosing either him or them, or Dean looking at Cas and seeing lost relationships.

Dean snakes his arms around Cas’ waist and squeezes. Cas feels him press his face into the crook of his neck, lips planting soft kisses into his skin. Cas laughs softly and curls his neck in at the touch.

“Tickles,” he mumbles. Dean’s fingers wriggle into Cas’ sides, causing him to squirm in discomfort.

“Dean, stop!” He laughs in a harsh whisper.

“Say the magic word Cas,” Dean teases, hands moving up over Cas’ ribcage and trying to wriggle their way under his arms.

“Please,” Cas begs in a fit of laughter.

“Nope, that’s not it,” Dean replies. Cas’ hands flail, trying to catch Dean’s hands while still locked in his embrace.

“Cut it out, or I’ll never suck your dick again!” Cas chokes out, still laughing breathlessly. Dean’s hands still and his grip loosens.

“Wow, bringing out the big threats, huh Cas?” Dean raises an eyebrows and Castiel shrugs.

“I hate being tickled,” he emphasizes. Dean resumes planting kisses up Cas' neck, trailing his way up over his throat and jaw until he finds his mouth. They kiss tenderly, sitting up on the bed.

“I thought you were tired?” Cas mumbles, lips hovering over Dean’s.

“Got my second wind,” Dean answers, capturing his mouth in another heated kiss. Cas snakes his hand around Dean’s neck, running a hand up the back of Dean’s hair and trialing his nails down it. Dean gives a low groan and draws away.

“You have no idea what that does to me,” he mutters, touching his forehead to Cas’.

“Maybe I do,” Cas whispers flirtatiously. He tugs at Dean’s hair gently, earning a hiss from him. Dean growls and tightens his grip on Cas’ waist, pushing him back on the bed. Dean runs a hand up Cas’ shirt, brushing his thumb repeatedly over his nipple, pinching it gently between two fingers.

“Fuck,” Cas mutters.

“You like that, don’t you Cas,” Dean says, breath hot against Cas’ ear before taking a lobe between his teeth. Cas whimpers in response. Dean seems to have the innate ability to find every magic spot on his body.

Dean’s hand trails down Cas’ torso, moving south. He cups Cas’ growing bulge and Cas can’t help a soft moan as Dean massages his growing cock through his jeans.

“Dean, you parents are down the hall,” Cas reminds him quietly. Between their combined noises and the squeak of the bed beneath them, he’s sure that if someone is awake, they no doubt know what’s going on in here.

“So?” Dean replies, as he plants sloppy, hot kisses over the side of Cas’ face. He ruts against Cas’ thigh as his fingers begin working open his fly.

“Your brother could walk in here at any moment,” Cas warns. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to look Sam in the eye if he catches them with Dean’s hand thrust down his pants.

“Well then we better make this fast,” Dean counters. The moment Dean pulls him free from his boxers, Cas gives in and locks his mouth onto Dean’s.

It’s a tight fit for two men on a twin bed, and Castiel wiggles around carefully to face Dean. He shoves his jeans and boxers down to his thighs so that Dean can get a better grip on his hardened cock.

Cas tears frantically at Dean’s pants, trying to get them open, before Dean’s hand comes down on his, stilling him and opening them himself. Cas pulls Dean out swiftly, causing Dean to thrust into his grip.

“Fuck,” Dean whispers harshly as Cas swipes a thumb over the tip of his cock and slicking precome over the head and shaft.

“Keep your voice down Dean,” Cas teases with a wry smile. Dean pulls Cas’ hand off of him and takes both of  their cocks in his massive calloused hand.

“I could say the same thing,” Dean says. He captures Cas’ mouth in a hot kiss as he begins to  build a rhythm. Cas’ parts from the kiss with a gasp, letting his head fall back. Dean’s pace drifts between fast and slow, working Cas to the brink of his orgasm before pulling back in his efforts.

“Dean, please,” he begs, trying with much effort to keep from moaning with every flick of Dean’s wrist.

“That’s what I want to hear,” Dean murmurs as he nibbles along Cas’ neck.

“Fuck, so close,” Cas mutters. Dean picks up speed and mouths over the bolt of his jaw.

Cas clenches his mouth shut, trying not to cry out. His hand grips Dean’s shoulder tightly, nails digging into the skin as he comes over his hand. He hears a soft gasp and feels Dean’s head fall onto his shoulder with his own climax.

They lay together, panting breathlessly. Cas believes this may be the hottest sexual encounter of his life, no doubt in part to the danger of the situation.

“Taking advantage of me in my parent’s house,” Dean tsks. “You’re a bad influence.” Castiel can’t help his sharp cackle of laughter. Dean quickly shushes him, but Cas feels his own chest jerking with laughter as well.

Dean sits up first, wiping his hand on his own shirt before tugging it off. “Sam is definitely not going to want the bed now,” he jokes. “You should probably get across the hall. He will be up here in a minute, no doubt.” Cas sits up and shrugs.

“He and Jess were passed out downstairs a few minutes ago,” he says, but he rises to his feet just the same. Cas pulls his pants back up, not bothering to button them up for his short trek across the hall. Dean pulls up his boxers and steps out out of his jeans. Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and moves in for one more kiss.

“Good night,” he murmurs.

“‘Night,” Dean replies. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas says. He kisses him once more, sweet and chaste, before moving toward the door and stepping out. He walks across the darkened hallway. He can hear voices downstairs, no doubt Sam and Jess, and breathes a sigh of relief that he and Dean finished when they did.

He opens the bedroom door and flicks on the lights. It exactly what you’d expect in a Teenager’s bedroom. A few posters hang on the wall, Led Zepplin and Metallica, and Cas glances through the shelf of worn books and model cars.

His phone chimes and he looks down to see a text message from Dean.

_“Kinda wish I could fall asleep next to you. Sleep tight XX”_

Cas smiles to himself as he drops his jeans to the floor. He sends a quick response to Dean, and sets the phone on the nightstand before crawling into bed. He flicks off the light and nestles into the blankets, drifting off with a soft smile.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Real life got in the way.


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel strolls through the front door of his office on Monday like he is walking on air. The weekend at Dean’s family’s house had been nearly perfect. Aside from some discomfort on John’s part, Dean’s family seemed open and happy to meet Castiel. They never once made him feel unwelcome or unwanted. Cas hasn’t had many serious relationships in his life, and when he has, meeting the family was a huge step. None had ever gone this smoothly.

He waves hello to Gabriel as he passes his desk, getting a lazy salute in return. He slips into his cubicle, popping his head over the divider to greet Ava.

As he sits down, he notices a large yellow envelope on his desk. He tears it open, dropping a silver disk onto his desk. Across the front is written “4/21/14 - Final Cut.” It has to be the final edit of the GSA segment. Castiel had finished his portion on Friday afternoon before leaving for St. Petersburg, but Bartholomew said he had a few tweeks he wanted to make.

Cas logs onto his computer and pops the disk in. He double clicks on the file and the video begins playing.

It doesn’t take long for Cas’ mood to sour.

 

* * *

 

 

He stomps down the row of cubicles toward Bartholomew's office. He finds him with the phone pressed to his ear, facing away from the door. As soon as Castiel steps inside, he throws the door shut.

“What the hell did you do?” He hisses, trying to keep his voice low enough not to be heard through their infamously-thin walls.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later,” Bartholomew mumbles into the phone before hanging up and turning to Cas. “What’s up, Castiel?”

“What they Hell did you do to our segment?” Castiel repeats, enunciating every word clearly. Bartholomew blinks a couple times, expression blank.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he says with mock innocence, shaking his head.

“You completely changed it!” Cas exclaims, “We were finished on Friday and you dismantled the entire thing.” Bartholomew gives Castiel a tight smile and sighs.

“Castiel-” He begins.

“What happened to Charlie’s interview,” Cas exclaims. “and when did you interview the Principal?” Cas’ hands shake in anger. He feels so hurt and betrayed, but more than anything stupid for trusting this asshole. Bartholomew had gotten an in depth interview with the principal of Dean’s school, who seemed to go on endlessly about “instilling good morals in today’s youth.”

“I thought it would only be right if we heard from both sides of the debate.” he answers, “We have ethics to uphold.”

“Charlie’s part is almost completely missing!” Cas argues.

“There was nothing that she said that Mr. Roman didn’t say as well.” Bartholomew replies. Castiel wants to punch that smug little smirk off of his face.

“You made it sound like they wanted to start a sex club!” Cas’ voice breaks in frustration.

“Castiel you are reading far too much into this,” Bartholomew shoots him a strange smile. “We’re simply presenting the facts and letting the viewers make the judgement call.” Castiel runs a hand through his hair gripping it viciously.

“Bartholomew,” Cas’ pleads, “These kids have no support here. Who’s side are you on? I thought you more than anyone-.”

“What? Because we used to fuck I’m supposed to support all of your causes, Castiel?” he snarks, sitting up in his chair. “Don’t act so fucking high and mighty! You wanted to do this story just to get into Dean’s pants. Mission accomplished, right?”

“That has nothing to do with this!” Castiel says through gritted teeth.

“Really?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in Cas’ direction, “So you are telling me if Dean weren’t involved in all of this, you’d have still taken it on.” Castiel hesitates for a moment, considering the accusation. Obviously, he only knew about the story because of Dean, but even if it had just landed on his desk by luck of the draw, he still would’ve followed through in the same way.

“Yeah, I would have,” Cas answers without a shred of doubt. Bartholomew considers him carefully before sitting back in his chair.

“Alright,” he mumbles. “Tell you what: I haven't submitted the segment up the line just yet, but I’d be willing to switch it out for your previous edit.”

Cas’ eyes widen. “You still have it?” He breathes

“Of course I do,” Bartholomew replies, “and I’d be willing to change them out on one condition.” Castiel looks at him cautiously, not quite knowing if he really wants to hear this.

“What?” He asks.

“Go out with me,” Bartholomew holds his hands out loosely. “One date, that’s all I’m asking.” Castiel’s face drops and a harsh chuckle rattles through him.

“Oh my god, what is your malfunction!” He yells, no doubt being overheard by half the newsroom. “Did you really think this would work? Extorting a date?!” Bartholomew’s expression quickly hardens.

“You have done _nothing_ but harass me and pry into my personal life since you came back, and I am sick and fucking tired of it!” Cas leans forward, slamming his hands onto the desk and causing Bartholomew to jump in surprise.

“Be careful what you say, Castiel,” he warns quietly.

“Or what?” Castiel hisses. “You’re going to turn into an even bigger pain in my ass, because I don’t think that’s possible! God, I am so _stupid_ to think that there is even an ounce of compassion in you!” He turns and throws open the door and stomps out of the office. A small crowd mills about outside the door, no doubt trying to overhear the fight.

“Castiel!” Bartholomew yells after him. Castiel raises his middle finger in the air, aiming it behind him as he walks away.

 

* * *

 

Chuck paces his office, desk phone pressed to his ear. He doesn’t say anything, but the voice on the other line doesn’t seem to want to let him get a word in edgewise. Cas watches tensely from the chair on the opposite side of the desk. As soon as he left Bartholomew’s office, he had raced to Chuck’s, hoping to cut this thing off before it got much worse.

“Uh-huh, I see,” Chuck mumbles. He turns and glances at Cas; his expression is not encouraging. “Ok. Ok. Ok, alright. Bye.” He drops the phone onto its cradle and settles back into his chair.

“There’s nothing I can do, Cas,” he says flatly. Castiel’s shoulders droop.

“What? Why?” He asks in disbelief. Chuck shakes his head and rubs a hand over his face.

“Anchors get final say in what they present,” he explains. “He’s completely within his rights to make any edits he sees fit.” Cas can’t believe what he’s hearing. Bartholomew must have known this entire time.

“But… but he’s lying. This isn’t what the story is about-”

“I know-” Chuck interjects, giving Cas a patient look.

“You’re our boss! Intervene or something!” Castiel throws his hands up wildly, punctuating his statement.

“I’m _your_ boss, not his,” Chuck clarifies. “He answers to station management, and when It comes right down to it, on-air talent has more power than I do.” Castiel feels like he has been gutted. He sits there in silence for a long moment before rising to his feet and facing Chuck.

“I’d like my name taken off the whole thing then,” he says.

Chuck raises an eyebrow. “You sure?” He asks. Cas nods.

“Absolutely,” he answers. He walks out of Chucks office without another word, keeping his head down as he navigates the rows of cubicles back to his own desk.

He falls into his chair and rubs at his temples. He doesn’t want to think about what the blowback from all of this is going to be, especially for Charlie and Dean.

There is a soft knock on his cubicle wall. Castiel looks up to see Gabriel standing in the doorway with a look of concern.

“What was going on back there?” He asks. “I’ve never seen you hulk out like that.” Castiel snorts derisively

“C’mon, maybe I can help,” Gabe offers. Cas shakes his head.

“If Chuck can’t help, you can’t help,” he snaps without turning around. Gabe grips the edge of Cas’ chair and spins him to face him.

“You are assuming that I follow the same moral code as Chuck,” Gabe replies, raising a brow. “So, spill.” Cas glances at him doubtfully.

“Bartholomew… He changed the story we were working on,” Cas says. Gabe clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, been there,” he says. “Rachel’s done that to me a few times. Is this the one you mentioned after the meeting a while ago?” Cas nods.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, and now...” Cas sighs with a shrug, “now my friends might be facing-” Gabe frowns.

“Friends?”

“Yeah, my, uh, friends are involved.” Cas admits reluctantly. Gabe whistles lowly.

“Dude, you should never bring this work into your personal life,” he offers. Cas rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that does me a lot of good now,” Cas scoffs sarcastically. He squeezes at the bridge of his nose and tries to think.

“This is for the 6 pm broadcast?” Cas nods. Gabriel leans against the cubicle wall.

“I might be able to do something,” he says. Cas’ head jerks up.

“You can get it pulled from the broadcast?!” Cas blurts out, jumping to his feet.

“Whoa there, kid,” Gabriel says, holding his hands out in front of him. “I said I could do something, not work miracles. You’re probably out of luck getting it pulled-” Castiel flops back into his chair dejectedly, “but I may be able to do something else.”

“Like what?” Cas snaps. Gabe makes a wary noise, hissing through his teeth.

“It might be better for you to not know,” he says. “In case you need to deny culpability.” Cas glares at him in confusion.

“Gotta go,” Gabe says, turning on his heel before Cas can ask him what the hell he is talking about. He groans in frustration as he watches the other man disappear around the corner.

Castiel glances at his phone. He needs talk to Dean before it airs, but dreads the thought of it. There’s no way Dean or Charlie will come out of this unscathed. There is going to be some sort of blowback. The school will no doubt have an issue with teachers putting it in bad light, and it’s all Cas’ fault.

A terrible thought suddenly occurs to him: What if Dean gets fired. Cas’ stomach turns at the notion. He stands abruptly, needing to get out of the crushing space of his cubicle. He walks quickly down the row and pushes through the exit door into the stairwell.

Dean will get fired and he’ll no doubt break up with Cas, because nobody wants to date the person responsible for them losing their job. Cas tamps down a whimper as he rushes down the stairs, pushing through the heavy metal exit door out to the parking garage at the back of the building.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and stares at the dark screen. He knows he needs to warn Dean about tonight’s broadcast. A very selfish part of himself keeps repeating that he’ll lose the man he loves if he does though. Cas swallows hard and unlocks the screen.

He taps the phone icon, Dean’s name staring back at him from recent calls. He hesitates for a moment before tapping it and holding the phone up to his ear. It rings a few times; Cas thinks maybe Dean is is class and he knows he can’t tell him all this over a voicemail. He’s ready to hang up when the phone picks up.

“Hey Cas,” Dean greets warmly. “What’s going on?” Cas takes a deep breath and tries to gather his thoughts.

“Dean, um, there’s something I need to tell you,” Cas begins hesitantly.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks, his tone changing instantly. Cas leans against the heavy stone wall of the building.

“It’s about the story…”

 

* * *

 

 

Cas watches his nieces scamper into his living room. Hannah has just recently learned to walk, and in spite of her uneasy steps, she eagerly chases after Cecily.

“Are you sure about this, Cassie?” Balthazar says, handing Cas the diaper bag. Castiel’s original plan for the evening was to hole up in his house and dwell in his self-pity. However, when Balthazar called and asked if Cas was interested in babysitting after their regular girl had cancelled, he figured the girls might be a nice distraction for the evening.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s fine,” he sighs. He didn’t fill Balthazar in on all the details, but he made it clear that some bad stuff happened at work today and it may affect Dean.

Meg steps out of the kitchen. “Alright, they’ve both had dinner, but there’s snacks on the counter. Hannah has a bottle in the fridge and Cecily is good with apple juice.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a stack of children’s DVDs. “If they start getting too wild, put on one of these. It’ll usually put them down.” Cas nods in understanding and places the movies on the hallway table.

“We should be back around 10:30,” Balthazar says. “Call us if anything happens, alright.”

“Sure thing,” Cas says. “Um, you guys don’t mind if Dean comes by, do you?” Balthazar and Meg glance at each other briefly and shake their heads.

“No, why would we?” Balthazar asks. “You won’t be having sex in front of the girls, will you?” Castiel’s looks at his brother in disgust.

“Of course not!” He exclaims.

“Well then, I shouldn’t have a problem with it,” Balthazar replies, shrugging again. “Go ahead, ask your boyfriend over.” Castiel bids them goodbye and shuts the door behind him. He walks into the living room to see a very irritated Grace being half-dragged/half-carried to the couch by Cecily.

“It’s a kitty cat!” She announces. Hannah follows behind her on her hands and knees, having given up on walking for the moment. Castiel smiles as he watches his nieces play. No matter what kind of mood he’s in, they always seem to make things better.

His phone begins ringing and he pulls it out to see Dean’s name across the screen. He settles onto his couch, keeping an eye on the girls, as he swipes his thumb across to answer it.

“Hello Dean,” he says, his voice hesitant.

“Hey Cas.” Dean sounds despondent on the other end.

“I take it you watched the broadcast?” He asks. Dean sighs heavily, and Cas knows that he’s nodding.

“I turned it off halfway through,” Dean replies. “It was as bad as you said.” Their conversation earlier had gone better than Castiel expected. There was no massive blow-out, and Dean didn’t break up with him on the spot, but Castiel still felt to blame about the whole thing and he had a feeling Dean thought the same.

“I am so sorry Dean,” Cas blurts out. “I was an idiot. If I had ever thought-”

“Cas, stop,” Dean says gently. “Please stop blaming yourself. You had no idea.”

“But I should’ve!” Cas says bitterly, leaning forward so that his elbows rest on his knees. There is a long pause on the other line.

“Would you mind coming over?” Cas asks. “Just for a little while. I really want to talk about this in person.” There is another empty silence on the other end before Dean answers.

“Cas, what’s going on?” Dean asks, worry evident in his voice.

“I just… I just need to see you,” Cas asks, leaning back. “Today was shit, and I just want to see you.”

“Alright, Cas,” Dean responds. “I’ll be over there in about 30 minutes, ok?”

“Ok,” Cas says. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Dean says, warmth in his voice. Cas exhales in relief when he hears this. They say goodbye and hang up. Cas glances down at the carpet where Hannah is draped over the cat and staring up at the TV, while Cecily presses her face up against the side of the guinea pig cage. Cas smiles and crouches down next to her.

“You want me to take Adam out of the cage?” Cas asks.

“Yes,” Cecily responds with complete certainty. He opens the slot at the top of the enclosure and reaches in to pick the guinea pig up.

“Remember to be very gentle,” Cas reminds her as he deposits Adam into her hands.

“Ok,” Cecily responds. She walks him across the living room and settles in front of the TV with the guinea pig in her lap. Grace takes a hesitant sniff toward them, but jumps in surprise when Adam begins squealing at her, running out of Hannah’s grip and hiding under the couch.

“You chicken,” Cas shakes his head at the cat. He reaches into the diaper bag and pulls a teether toy out for Hannah.

A short while later there is a knock at the door. Cas rises from the floor where’s sitting next to Hannah and goes to answer it. Dean stands in the doorway, looking suitably worn down.

“Hello Dean,” Cas says warmly. He opens the door wide, letting him inside.

‘Hey Cas,” Dean says, mouth quirked in a small half smile. He leans in for a kiss, which Cas accepts gratefully. Dean pulls back at the sound of Cecily’s giggles from the living room.

“What was that?” Dean asks, craning his neck.

“I have Cecily and Hannah for the evening,” Cas says, leading Dean back toward the living room. “Balthazar and Meg needed a babysitter. You don’t… You don’t mind, do you?” Cas gives him a worried look, still unsure of Dean’s mood.

“Of course not,” Dean answers easily. They enter the living room to find the guinea pig chasing the cat while Cecily and Hannah watch in amusement. As soon as they walk in, Cecily’s attention turns to Cas and Dean.

“Cecily, you remember Mr. Dean, right?” She looks up at him with large blue eyes and nods. Hannah toddles over to Cas, arms reaching up.

“They’ll be going to bed in a few minutes,” Cas says as he picks Hannah up. “I’m going to get her bottle. I’ll be back in a second.”

“That’s fine,” Dean says, settling onto the couch. As soon as he sits down, Cecily walks up to him, depositing the guinea pig in his lap.

“Oh, thank you,” Dean says emphatically.

“It’s Adam,” Cecily announces. Dean nods and picks up the guinea pig.

“He lives in a cage,” Cecily continues, “but he doesn’t like being there.”

“Neither would I,” Dean says, holding the guinea pig to his chest and stroking its fur. He lowers it to the floor and it scampers out of his hands, Cecily chasing after him. Cas return with Hannah and her bottle.

“These two are good with the animals?” Dean asks. Cas nods as he slides next to Dean on the couch.

“Technically, both Grace and Adam are theirs,” Cas explains. “Meg has allergies, but Balthazar didn’t think it was right for the girls to grow up without pets.”

“What about fish?” Dean offers.

“In his words ‘if you can’t pet it, it’s not a pet,’” Cas replies. Dean nods and rubs a hand up and down Cas’ thigh affectionately.

Within an hour, both girls are passed out; Hannah on Cas’ chest and Cecily snuggled with her blanket on the floor. Cas silently deposits Hannah in her pack ‘n play while Dean carries Cecily in behind him, placing her on the center of the queen-sized bed.

“You’re really good with kids,” Cas says quietly as they close the door.

“I deal with kids all day,” Dean shrugs.

“Yeah, but I mean really young kids,” he clarifies. “I wouldn’t have expected that, to be honest.”

“What can I say? I’m an older brother,” Dean says. “Some things you don’t forget, I guess.” They walk back into the living room and Cas flicks the lights back on. Dean comes up behind slips his arms around Cas’ waist. Cas takes Dean’s hands in his.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Dean asks, mumbling the words into Cas’ shoulder. Cas turns around and faces him.

“I just want to apologize in person,” Cas says, eyes dropping to the floor. “I keep thinking about everything, and I should’ve seen this coming. Bartholomew is such a shitbag and a sleaze. I cannot believe I was so stupid to trust-”

“Cas, hey, hey,” Dean rubs down the sides of Cas’ arms. “You had no idea. You got taken advantage of by that asshat.” Cas shakes his head.

“I should’ve predicted this, though,” Cas says, dropping onto the couch. “I was getting a bad feeling about Bartholomew before this, and I should’ve.. gone with my instinct, asked for someone else.” Dean sits down besides Cas.

“Cas, please don’t blame yourself for this,” Dean mumbles.

“Why not? I led this crap right to you!” Cas says, suddenly angry. He lets his head fall into his hands, rubbing at his eyes. Dean moves his hands away from his face and tips his head up to look at him. He expression is fierce.

“Let’s get things clear: You didn’t bring this on us, Charlie and I came to you,” Dean says emphatically. “Yeah, the situation sucks. Am I upset? Yes. I’m really upset that my asshole principal didn’t even bother to hide his clearly biased feelings on the matter.” Cas frowns and let’s his head slump forward. Dean’s hand slips into his.

“But I am not angry with you,” Dean stresses, brushing a thumb over Cas’ knuckles, “I… I don’t get it, Cas. I told you on the phone I wasn’t upset but you keep acting like…. like I’m breaking up with you or something.” Cas flinches at the words but doesn’t say anything, just stares at the floor.

“Was that it?” Dean asks softly, “You thought I was going to break up with you?”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you,” Cas mutters after a long moment. Dean huffs a bitter laugh and falls back against the back of the couch.

“Jesus, Cas!” he growls, “Is that what you think of me? That one off-handed homophobic comment by my douchebag boss was going to send me running for the hills?” Cas feels his face redden, the ridiculousness of the notion sinking in.

“Don’t forget the vindictive creepy ex boyfriend,” he mumbles. Dean laughs again and kisses Cas’ cheek lightly.

“Cas, don’t take this personally, but I should kick your ass for thinking so little of me.” He tips Cas’ chin toward him, “I’m not going to break up with you over this. Not a fucking chance.”

“But… but your job?” Cas asks. It’s the one thing that has been on Cas’ mind all day: What if Dean loses his job.

“One, I have tenure. They can’t fire me without some pretty fuckin’ just cause, which being bisexual is not,” Dean holds out a finger, “Two, if they try to fire me for what happens in my personal life, they’ll have a lawsuit on their hands which I would no doubt win. Hot Shot lawyer baby brother, remember?” Cas snorts at that and Dean beams in response.

“And three: I’m in love with you.” Dean is still smiling but his eyes are deadly serious. “My job makes me happy, I’m not going to lie, but you make me so much happier than I could ever believe.” Dean looks away for a moment, scratching at the back of his head nervously.

“Look, I know we haven’t been going out long and if this comes off as ‘too soon’ just tell me but…” He takes a deep breath, “I’ve always wanted a relationship like my parents have. They are very different people, but they understand each other, y’know? Balance each other out and all that. Sam and Jess are the same way. I can’t explain it, it’s just there. I wasn’t sure If I was ever going to find that … connection, but with you… with you it’s just there and…” Dean trails off. Castiel just looks at him, mouth hanging open, unable to speak as he’s so touched.

“I just see myself and my future and,” Dean exhales and looks up at Cas. “You’re there, y’know?” Cas doesn’t answer, but presses forward instead, capturing Dean’s mouth in a deep kiss. His hands come up, gently brushing against the stubble of Dean’s jaw. Dean’s arms wrap around his waist, curling under the edge of Cas’ t-shirt.

“Love you,” Cas mumbles against Dean’s lips. “So much… Feel the same.” Dean deepens the kiss and presses against Cas, laying him out against the sofa. Just as his hand is sliding over Cas’ back, working his t-shirt up over his torso, a muffled cry echoes from the spare room.

“Shit,” Cas hisses, pulling away from the kiss. “The baby.” He rolls off the couch and onto the floor, quickly getting up and hurrying to the room.

Cas rushes into the room, picking Hannah up from her pen and hurrying her out of the room before she wakes up her sister. He emerges a moment later, Hannah laying against his chest. He shushes against her ear softly.

“I think a tooth may be coming in,” Cas says. “I don’t think she’s getting back to sleep.” He settles back onto the couch next to Dean.

“No worries,” Dean says. He smooths a hand over the side of Cas’ leg. “Do you have any whiskey?”

“Uh, yeah. In the tall cupboard in the kitchen,” Cas says. “You want a drink?”

“No, it’s for the baby.” Dean says, rising to his feel. Castiel’s eyes widen.

“You’re giving her whiskey?!” He gapes. Dean laughs lightly.

“I’m going to rub it on her gums,” Dean says as he walks into the kitchen.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Cas asks, brow furrowed. He can hear the sound of cabinets being open and shut.

“My mom did it for me and Sam,” Dean calls from the other room. “Didn’t hurt us.” Cas frowns as Dean returns with a nearly-empty shot glass. He dips his finger into the whiskey, coating the tip.

“Don’t worry, I washed my hands,” he says. “Open up, Sweetie.” Dean runs a finger inside Hannah’s mouth. The baby grimaces and smacks her mouth a couple times, but does calm down somewhat.

“Works like a charm,” Dean says, setting the glass aside. Cas smiles to himself.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you Dean?” Cas exclaims. Dean shrugs absently and settles back onto the couch next to Cas. Hannah begins to snore softly on Cas’ chest, and Dean’s hand curls lazily around Cas’.

Cas has to agree with him: he sees Dean in his future as well.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some major drama is afoot and the boys are dealing with the fall out from the broadcast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late arrival of this chapter. Life and stuff, y'know?
> 
> Warning for homophobic language/slurs and instance of sexual harassment .
> 
> **Edit: An anachronism was pointed out to me by several readers. Thank you all for the heads up. I've decided to fix Dean's student's name**

Dean expects the worst when he pulls into the staff parking lot in the morning, but is quite surprised to see things unchanged. There are no protesters outside the school or news van, just the same gaggle of teachers and students that there always are. Dean exits the Impala, grabbing his messenger bag off of the passenger seat and locking the door.

As he approaches the school, he begins to notice a slight shift in the atmosphere. He can feel people’s eyes on him as he passes. He waves hello to a couple of students only, to receive a chilly response or none at all. He tries not to let this bother him.

He pushes through the front door of the school and steps into the main hallway. Whispered conversations stop as he walks by. Some of his fellow teachers offer greetings and sympathetic looks. By the time he reaches his room, Dean’s mood has dropped. He could’ve handled an onslaught of questions and picket signs; it’s the whispers and stink-eyes he hates.

He’s putting his bag away in his tiny cabinet when there is a knock at his door. He looks up to see Charlie waiting at the edge of the door.

“Hey,” she mutters sadly.

“Hey, come on in,” Dean sighs. She walks in and leans against the desk next to Dean.

“So, how’re you doing?” Dean asks. Charlie gives a defeated shrug.

“Ok, I guess,” she mumbles. “Thanks for the heads up yesterday,” She glances over and gives him a sad smile. As soon as he hung up with Cas, he immediately found Charlie and relayed everything he had told Dean. He had never see Charlie so despondent.

“Yeah, no worries,” he replies. They sit in silence for a long moment. Charlie chews at her nails, a nervous habit Dean recognizes.

“I thought there would be more of a fallout,” Dean finally pipes up. “Protesters or news vans or something.” Charlie stares at the floor dismally.

“They were here first thing this morning,” she admits. “Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office cleared them out, said they were trespassing.” Dean frowns deeply.

“Roman called JSO?” Dean wonders if maybe the thought of bad PR scared him, but Charlie shakes her head.

“No, Singer did,” she says. “It was mostly just those right wing assholes from the weird church up the block. No parents that I recognized.” Dean nods. He’s not sure how he feels about this information, but at least the protesters left rather quickly from the sound of it.

“I’ve gotten a lot of strange looks,” Dean offers. Charlie snorts derisively.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t your face on the TV, just your name,” she grouses. “I’ve got people avoiding me like the plague.” Dean tries to place a comforting hand on her back, but she shrugs him off.

“You know, I wasn't expecting everything to be all sparkles and unicorns when I decided to do this,” she announces, rising to her feet. “But I… I can’t believe that… that your boyfriend did this!” Dean gets to his feet instantly.

“Hey, Cas had nothing to do with this!” He blurts out. “It was all that Bartholomew dick bag.”

“How do you know, Dean?” Charlie says accusingly. “Maybe he’s just been trying to fuck us over from the start.”

“Now you know that’s not true,” Dean says sternly. “You’ve met Cas, you saw the type of guy he is. Plus, we came to him with this whole thing! It was our idea. Do you really think he’d do something like this?” All the anger drains out of Charlie and she slumps into a desk in the front row.

“No,” she admits glumly. “You’re right, he wouldn’t. I know he’s not like that, but I’m just so, so…Angry!” Charlie bangs her hand on the desk and yelps in pain, rubbing the bottom of her fist. Dean can’t help the snort of laughter. He slides into the desk next to hers.

“I know,” he says. “I’m pissed off, too. Cas told me some things about that Bartholomew guy-”

“Things?” Charlie interrupts, brows furrowing.

“Yes, things,” Dean assures. He is wary to go into detail with her regarding what Cas told him. It’s his information to share with her. “I can’t really divulge all of it, but let’s just say that the guy has a scumbag track record and Castiel got the wool pulled over his eyes too.” Charlie gives Dean a doubtful look, but nods anyway.

“The guy does put off a creepy vibe,” she offers. “I could’ve told Cas he was bad news.”

“I can guarantee that he was already aware,” Dean says. “He didn’t really have a choice about bringing him in on the story, though.” The noise from the hallway grows as it begins to fill with students.

“You better get to your room,” Dean offers. “Time to start the day.” Charlie nods and stands from the desk. As soon as Dean gets to his feet, she wraps her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“Thanks for being there, Dean,” she mumbles into his chest. She unhooks her arms from around Dean’s neck, giving him the Vulcan salute as she walks out the door.

Dean walks to his desk and looks over his lesson plan for the day. He browses his notes and writes a couple essay questions on the board for his first class. Students slowly begin to stream into the room, chattering to each other. A few greet him as usual and take their seats.

The minute warning bell rings and Dean glances through his attendance list. He thinks he feels something hit him in the head, but when he looks up he doesn’t see anything.

“Alright everyone,” he calls out as the final bell rings. “Let’s take our seat, we have a lot to cover today.” He picks up a marker and starts writing on the whiteboard.

“I want everyone to take out a peices of paper-” something hits him in the back of the head. Dean turns around to see a balled up scrap of paper at his feet. He tosses it in the trash and levels a stare at the class.

“Settle down guys,” he warns as he turns back to the board. “Now you should’ve read chapter 18 last night and-” Dean hears whispering from behind him followed by cackling laughter. He turns minutely, watching the class out of the corner of his eye to find the culprit.

“Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Gordon?” Dean asks, Gordon’s head pops up and he stares wide-eyed at Dean before settling down into his seat.

“No sir,” he says defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest. Alistair, the guy he had been talking to, smirks at Dean causticly.

“Well then, why don’t you hold on to your discussion until after class, Ok?” Dean offers coolly.

“Why should we have to listen to a fag like you?” Alistair shouts out. Dean’s blood runs cold. He had expected issues from parents, or maybe other teachers, but not from his kids.

“What did you say?” He asks in a harsh whisper.

“I said why should we have to listen to some faggy teacher who takes it up the ass?” A soft titter of laughter drifts through the room, but most of the class sits stone silent. Dean feels his temper rising and he’s almost too infuriated to move. He points at the door.

“Take your things and head to Assistant Principal Singer’s room right now!” He orders, trying to keep his voice even. Alistair sneers at Dean.

“Why? Did I hurt your gay little feelings?” He replies with a sneer.

“ _Get out of my classroom right now_!” Dean roars. The entire class startles; even Dean is taken aback. He’s never once raised his voice to a class. Alistair stares at him bitterly.

“Go to Assistant Principal Singer’s office now,” Dean says, his voice once again at the level. Without another word, Alistair strolls out of the classroom. Dean walks to the interschool phone attached to the wall and dials 0 to call the office.

“Yes?” A voice rattles from the phone.

“This is Dean Winchester in room E145,” Dean says. “Alistair Page is headed to Mr. Singer’s office for use of offensive language in the classroom. Please make sure that Mr. Singer is aware.”

“Will do,” the secretary answers. Dean hangs up the phone and turns back toward his still-silent class. He walks to the center of the room.

“Does anyone else want to join Mr. Page?” He asks coolly. A few students shake their heads. Dean is seeing red and he doesn’t wants to take his anger out on his class, but something needs to be said.

“How many of you watched the news broadcast last night?” He asks. The majority of the class raise their hands. Dean paces quietly back and forth across the room.

“How many of you agree with what Principal Roman said?” Dean asks reluctantly. A handful of students raise their hands, only two assuredly. Dean nods, disappointed in this.

“Whether or not any of you agree with the school forming a GSA or not, it does not give anyone the right to act in a belligerent or hateful manner.” Dean says calmly, eyes focused on the floor.

“But what about Freedom of Speech,” Gordon blurts out, voice echoing in the silent room.

“Freedom of Speech is not a catch-all,” Dean argues. “It means you can’t get arrested for what you say, not that there aren’t consequences.” Dean points to the door that Alistair just left through.

“In the real world, if you act like a disrespectful jack-” Dean bites back a swear in front of his class, “... A disrespectful idiot, whatever your beliefs are, be prepared to face the fallout,” Dean says.

“So we can’t disagree with you then?” Casey snaps petulantly.

“Agree with me, don’t agree with me, I don’t care,” Dean says flippantly with a shrug. He settles himself on the top of his desk. “But I do ask that you act like adults. In a year or less for some of you, you’re going to _be_ adults. The world around you is going to come at you full force, and you’re going to learn that the key to keeping relationships, not burning bridges and not getting punched in the face, is acting respectful to those around you even when you don’t agree with them or their actions.” Dean scrubs a hand over his face. The day has just begun and he is already sick of it.

“That being said, my personal life is not up for debate here. I have never brought it up and it is no one’s business other than my own, got it?” The last part comes out harshly and a few of the kids jump. A unanimous nod travels through the the class. Dean sighs heavily.

“Now, everyone take out a piece of paper and complete these two questions on Chapter 18,” he instructs. “You have 15 minutes.”

 

* * *

 

Castiel tries to zone out in his work, but just being in the same building as that assbutt Bartholomew has him on edge. Gabriel stops by his desk at one point and taps him on shoulder, sending Castiel jumping three feet in the air.

“Holy Hell, Cas!” Gabe exclaims. “What has you so wound up?” Castiel leans forward, elbows on his knees, and rubs at his eyes.

“The thought of running into Bartholomew,” he admits bitterly.

“That guy really has you that spooked?” Gabe asks, expression twisting. Cas nods pitifully.

“He’s just… I brought that story to him and he…” Castiel hesitates to continue. His reputation is already paper thin and anymore drama could kill his career.

“He what?” Gabriel persists.

“Nothing,” Castiel shakes his head dismissively, but Gabe doesn’t look convinced.

“Castiel,” he begins softly, “whatever Bartholomew is doing, if it’s got you-”

“There’s my producer,” a familiar, unwelcome voice drifts through the air. Castiel’s stomach sours at the sight of a perfectly-quaffed and bespoke Bartholomew Harris standing in his cubicle doorway. He muscles Gabe out of the way and stares down at Castiel, holding up a file folder.

“Got our next piece,” he says with a bright, toothy smile.

“Go away,” Castiel mutters, turning his attention back to his computer screen. “I’m not working with you anymore. I already made that clear to Chuck.”

“Castiel, C’mon!” Bartholomew groans. “Is this because I changed your little story? Jesus Christ, grow a pair! It happens. Right… uh, Gadreel, is it?” He turns his attention to Gabe.

“Gabriel, actually,” he replies flatly.

“Gabriel, of course,” Bartholomew says with false friendliness. “Castiel and I need to chat. Why don’t you give us a minute?” Gabriel’s eyes flick from Bartholomew to Castiel. Cas gives him a pleading look, and Gabriel moves away from the cubicle.

“Castiel,” Bartholomew moves into the cubicle, “it happens to all producers. The key is not getting so attached to your work. Don’t take it personally.” Castiel gapes at him in disbelief.

“Don’t take it personally?!?” He hisses. “You… you made…” Castiel clenches his jaw and shakes his head, steeling himself. “No, no, I’m done with this. I am not talking to you anymore.” Bartholomew crouches down uncomfortably close to Cas.

“Is this because of Dean?” Bartholomew sticks out his lip sarcastically. “Scared he’s going to lose his job? You could’ve saved him a lot of trouble, Cas, if you’d just given me another chance.” Bartholomew places a hand on Castiel’s knee and he immediately shakes him off.

“I said leave me the hell alone,” Cas mutters. Bartholomew moves in close enough that Castiel can feel his breath on his ear.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t miss me,” he whispers lewdly. “I fucked you like no one else, that’s what you said. You give me another chance and I can make you forget all about this Dean guy.” Bartholomew’s hand moves over Castiel’s leg once more, inching toward his crotch.

Castiel feels sick and he is at his limit. He pushes him away forcefully.

“Get the Fuck away from me!” Castiel says harshly, trying to keep his voice low. “I don’t want to work with you, I don’t want to have sex with you, I don’t want to be within 10 feet of you!.” Bartholomew sits up straight with a strange little smile on his face.

“It doesn't matter,” he says. “You had your chance, you rejected me, and you paid the price. Do you think Dean’s really going to stick around after this, Castiel? He’s fucked and it’s your fault.” Castiel stares at him dumbfounded as his fears are voiced back to him. Before he can say another word, Bartholomew turns on his heel and walks away.

Castiel gives a shaky sigh and collapses back into his chair.  He lets his head fall into his hand and rubs at his temples.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Castiel!” Gabriel mutters in disbelief, head popping up over the wall of the cubicle. “What the hell was that about?” Castiel stares at him in horror, realizing that Gabe, the biggest gossip in the building, was just privy to their entire conversation.

“How long have you been listening?” Castiel breathes, brows drawing together.

“The entire time, duh. Do you even know me?” Gabriel comes around the cubicle wall and stands in Castiel’s doorway. “I repeat, what was that about? Who is Dean?” Castiel sighs; Gabe isn’t going to leave until he tells him something.

“Dean is my boyfriend,” Castiel admits. “He was part of the story, but only tentatively. Bartholomew changed everything about the segment and now… his job may be at risk.”

“I don’t understand, though,” Gabriel says, leaning against the wall. “What did you mean you could’ve saved him a lot of trouble?” Castiel bites at his lip and looks away. Gabe has probably already heard everything, he might as well tell him the rest.

“After Bartholomew re-cut the Carver Edlund High School segment, he said he would change it back if I went out with him,” Castiel admits. Gabe’s eyes widen ridiculously.

“Good Lord Castiel,” Gabe huffs. “Why didn’t you report him?”

“Why would I do that?” Castiel asks, expression pinched.

“Because that is textbook sexual harassment,” Gabe explains. “And from the sound of things today, it sounds like it’s escalating.” Castiel shakes his head angrily.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says bitterly. “Even if I were to report him, it’s his word against mine.”

“And mine,” Gabe reminds him. “I heard everything.”

“Do you really think it makes any difference Gabe?” Cas looks at him miserably. He snorts harshly. “He’s on-air talent, and anchor. He’s untouchable and I’m the one with a strike against me.” Gabe frowns and stands up straight.

“Cas-”

“Look, just _leave it,_ alright?” Castiel holds his hands out in front of him. “I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t want it.” He turns back to his computer.

“I’m just going to keep my head down and wait for this to blow over,” Castiel continues, rubbing at his forehead, “and maybe if I’m lucky, Bartholomew will get bored with me and… and leave me alone.” He can feel Gabe’s eyes on him, but doesn’t turn around.

“Alright Castiel,” he sighs. “Whatever makes you happy.” He hears Gabe walk off, leaving him alone in his cubicle.

“Certainly, not this,” Castiel murmurs to himself sadly.

 

* * *

 

Charlie sets two large pizza boxes on her living room table, the warm aroma filling the room. Dean hands a plate to Cas, where he sits next to him on the sofa. After the day he and Charlie had, they both agreed pizza, beer, and commiseration were in order. Dean called Sam, in case any legal questions came up, and they gathered at Charlie and Dorothy's place.

“I don’t think I have ever been called a ‘bull dyke’ more in my life,” Charlie complains sadly, grabbing a slice of mushroom and onion stuffed crust. Dorothy settles next to her on the floor, taking two slices of meat lovers. “I sent six kids to Singer today. Six!” Dean nods in understanding.

“At least you didn’t have kids pulled from your class,” he mumbles. Charlie looks at him wide-eyed as she swallows a bite.

“Who?”

“Kate Sheridan,” Dean admits. “Her father called and demanded she be taken out.” He shakes his head bitterly. “Like that piece of shit gives a flying fuck about his daughter. He never attends parent teacher conferences, never shows up at open houses, and I’ve never seen him once at one of the orchestra’s performances. She’s first chair violin, for God’s sake!” Cas reaches out and rubs Dean’s hand, attempting to calm him down.

“I’m ok, I am,” he reassures.

“Well, I’m not,” Dorothy pipes up loudly, wiping at her mouth with a paper towel. “We need to do something. That shitbag news guy twisted Charlie’s words. Can he really get away with that?” She directs the last line to Castiel, who just looks down and nods his head.

“Anchors are given free will to edit what they put out since their name is attached,” He explains despondently.

“So the fact that Charlie’s name got smeared makes no fucking difference?” Dorothy snaps angrily. Cas looks up at her with pained eyes.

“The thing is, Bartholomew didn’t smear Charlie’s name. No one did in fact,” Cas counters.

“Bullshit!” Dorothy mutters.

“No, it’s true,” He holds up his hands in a placating gesture, “Look, I’m not defending him here, believe me, he’s an even bigger shitbag than you could imagine, but he’s also smart.”

“What do you mean, Cas?” Charlie asks, leaning in closer.

“Bartholomew got an interview with the other side of the debate.”

“Roman,” Dean supplies.

“Exactly, Roman,” Castiel says, “He has two interviews with opposing points of view. If he had split the interviews 50/50, or at least asked Roman the same questions he’d asked you-”

“Wait, he didn’t?” Charlie asks, “How do you know this? I thought you weren’t there?” His  brow furrows deeply. Castiel shakes his head. Dean had warned him that Charlie had  temporarily accused him in a fit of anger of being in on this mess

“I wasn’t, but I can tell Bartholomew changed his interview from the way Roman answered. He asked more in-depth questions, got longer answers.”

“What do you mean ‘changed the interview?’” Charlie inquires.

“He asked you a lot of yes and no questions. They are informative, but they don’t make for good interviews,”  Cas explains. “Bartholomew deliberately made Roman a better interview so that if anyone starts investigating him or his journalistic ethics, he can point to the videos and say he was just working with what he had.”

“So he’s covered his tracks,” Dean mutters, dropping his plate of half-eaten pizza onto the table, all at once not hungry.

“Like I said, he’s smart and he’s untouchable,” Castiel says. “It’s like what I told you about him.” Dean can see Charlie looking in Cas’ direction and raising an eyebrow, but she doesn’t say anything.

“So what do we do now?” Dorothy says. Glancing amongst the four of them. They look between themselves when there’s a knock at the door. Charlie rises to her feet to answer it as the others, save for Dean, focus on their food.

“He really played us,” Dean mutters, taking a sip of his beer. Castiel nods.

“All of us,” Castiel agrees quietly. Dean glances over at him with concern; Cas has been quiet all evening. He says that he’s tired and it’s been a long day at work, but Dean has seen Cas tired. This is something more, something he’s not telling Dean.

Charlie reenters the room a moment later with Sam in tow.

“Sorry I’m late,” Sam says, holding up a handful of papers. “I was doing a little research.”

“And?” Dean asks, leaning forward to listen to Sam.

“So get this,” He begins, “Bartholomew is within all his legal rights as a journalist to present his work as he chooses-”

“Yeah, we know that,” Dorothy says, jerking a thumb toward the couch, “Cas filled us in.”

“-Unless his actions fall under libel,” San continues, a small grin spreading across his face. All four look confused for a long moment before Dean interjects.

“Are… you saying that we could sue for libel?’ Dean asks carefully.

“If what was said wasn’t true,” Sam replies, nodding.

“But Bartholomew didn’t say anything untrue,” Cas points out, “Neither did Roman. He just voiced his opinion and rallied support.”

“But if he’s trying to smear Charlie and Dean-?” Sam offers, but Cas holds up a hand.

“Sam, I am exceptionally well versed in libel law,” he says gently, “And so is Bartholomew. Not one word he said was untrue. He reported on the situation but leaned to one side. Only once did he use Charlie and Dean’s words against them, and even that is a stretch.”

“How could he use my words?” Dean asks, “He never interviewed me.” Cas waves his hand in the air vaguely.

“I’m speaking in general terms,” Cas says, “Your names are often listed together in the quotes regarding the GSA.”

‘Wait?” Dean asks, brows furrowing. “He can just do that?” Charlie bites her lip guiltily.

“He read from the clubs mission statement,” Charlie says quietly, “It’s signed from both you and I.” Dean stares at Charlie in disbelief. He feels Cas’ hand on his back in comfort and he leans into the touch.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Charlie gives him a miserable look, “If I had known that shit would’ve blown up like this, I would never have asked you to help me.” Dean reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder, quieting her instantly

“Hey, Hey, Charlie, don’t apologize,” he assures, “I do not regret helping you. You’re my best friend-”

“Hey!” Castiel and Sam say in unison.

“Best Brother, Best Boyfriend” Dean clarifies, pointing to both Sam and Cas respectively. He turns back to Charlie. “You needed my help and I was happy to give it. I’m still happy to give it.” He squeezes her shoulder and Charlie reaches up to pat Dean’s hand.

“So, I repeat… What do we do now?” Dorothy asks. Charlie sighs heavily and grabs up the dirty plates.

“Well, I plan on calling the ACLU tomorrow as well as the Local PFLAG chapter,” Charlie replies.

“That’s a good idea,” Sam says. “Drum up support. Do you know if any of your student’s parents are members?” Both Dean and Charlie shake their heads.

“You should also talk to Equality Florida,” Cas offers. “They might be able to call up some press… some _supportive_ press.” He looks down once again in embarrassment. He rises to his feet and walks his now-empty plate into the kitchen. Dean stands and follows, joining Cas at the sink. He drops a hand at the small of Cas’ back.

“Are you doing ok?” He asks. Castiel nods, but he is far from believable.

“Yeah, it’s just…” he rubs at his forehead with the back of his hand. “Work stress, you know? And I hate to see Charlie and Dorothy so upset.”

“Hey, don’t take anything they say personally, ok? They don’t mean it, I promise.” Dean wraps his arms around Cas’ waist and plants a kiss on his shoulder. “Is there anything else?” Cas shrugs slightly.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles. “Bartholomew, he-”

“What did he say to you?” Dean asks, his voice becoming instantly serious. He can feel Cas tense in his arms and he shakes his head.

“Just being your average asshole,” he says. “He keeps rubbing it in, like he won or something. And he keeps on saying…” Cas trails off.

“What?” Dean asks, resting his chin on Cas’ shoulder. Cas sighs heavily, his hands gripping at the counter.

“He has this way of getting into my head,” Cas blurts out. “And he… he keeps on saying that you’re going to leave me.” The words come out in a rush. Dean frowns deeply and turns Cas in his arms until he’s facing Dean.

“He says I’m going to leave you?” He asks in disbelief. Cas nods, not meeting Dean’s eye. “Do.. you believe him?” Dean’s voice is hesitant. He finds himself holding his breath until Cas gives a barely noticeable shake of his head.

“I don’t know, I mean,” Cas looks up and tugs at his hair. “Why not, huh? If you lose your job because of this-”

“I won’t Cas, I told you!” Dean insists.

“But you don’t know that!” He hisses desperately. “What if you do? Then it’s all my fault! Me and my stupid, fucking psycho ex-boyfriend!” Castiel’s voice grows louder and Sam pokes his head in the kitchen, a concerned look on his face. Dean catches his eye and shakes his head at him until Sam dips out of the doorway.

Dean pulls Castiel into a tight hug.

“Cas, listen to me, ok?” Dean says softly. “If this guy is driving you this nuts, you need to let your bosses know. If he’s harassing you at work, there are actions they can take. Let me talk to Sam-” Castiel cuts him off with a quick shake of the head.

“No, I don’t want anyone else involved in this,” he says. “I don’t want him getting… involved with anymore of my friends.” Dean frowns doubtfully. Cas tucks his head against Dean’s shoulder, nuzzling into the cotton of his over-shirt. Dean pets down his arms, noting the tension draining from Cas as he does.

“I just… I just want to forget about work and all that bullshit for a couple of hours, alright?” Cas mumbles into Dean’s shoulder. He wants to push more. He wants to take this Bartholomew guy to task over the toxic working environment he’s creating for Cas. If nothing else, he wants to kick him in the balls. Dean knows, though, that Cas is already on edge and too much pressure might have the opposite effect from what he wants.

“Alright Cas,” Dean says gently, pulling back to look at him. “Let’s enjoy the evening. But you know if you need me to kick his ass, I will, right? Might even enlist Sam.” Cas snorts in amusement and Dean enjoys the sight of him smiling. Castiel glances up at Dean for a moment before moving forward and kissing him tenderly. Dean let’s himself be absorbed by the kiss and the feeling of Cas’ mouth until there is a cough behind them.

“Um, guys?” Charlie stands in the doorway, arms full of pizza boxes. “I need to put these away, but what do you say to a little Cards Against Humanity?” Dean and Cas give each other twin knowing looks and move out of the kitchen, hand in hand.

Dorothy is pulling out the box or cards and shuffling them.

“Have you played this before Cas?” She asks, not looking up as she deals out white cards. Cas smiles slyly and Dean squeezes his hand.

“A bit,” he says.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay, but his chapter was a bear to write. Huge thanks to [ANobleCompanion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion) for her beta assistance and expertise. You are amazing. I don't think I say that often enough.

Dean would be lying if he said the last week and a half hadn’t been hard. There was a schism in the school with everyone, students and staff members, choosing sides. While many kids had seemed supportive, or at least had no problem with Dean, there were plenty that actively avoided him in the halls. The opposed teachers were much more passive aggressive on the matter. Martin Creaser’s political conversations tended to get louder when Dean was in the room and Suzy Lee, the Home Ec teacher, had begun leaving  pamphlets for her prayer group on every flat surface.

For the most part though, Dean didn’t feel threatened or uncomfortable. He actually believed that maybe this mess would fade away as soon as the next big local news story came to light.

He should’ve known that shit can never be that easy.

“Alright, guys,” Dean announces, holding up a copy of “Native Son,” “We have two chapters left. I’m going to pass out a sheet of essay questions. I want you to read chapter 19, answer them, we’ll review them in class tomorrow. No excuses if they are late.” A collective groan rises from the group.

The group files out of the room. Dean is organizing his notes when he hears someone clear their throat. He turns his head to see Nancy, the school secretary, standing in his doorway.

“Mr. Winchester,” she says softly, “Principal Roman would like to speak with you.”

“Can it wait?” Dean asks, “I have a group of students meeting with me for a lunchtime study session at 12:15.” Nancy quickly shakes her head.

“He insisted it be right now,” she answers. Without another word, she turns on her heel and walks back down the hallway to the office. Dean frowns and rolls his eyes. He scratches a small note on a post-it pad  letting his lunch group know he’ll be late and sticks it on his door. He closes the door behind him and heads toward the office. As soon as he descends the stairs to the main floor, he knows something isn’t right. It might be his imagination, but the hallway is too quiet. Everyone’s conversation seems to stop as soon as they see him. He turns the corner and sees Charlie hurrying in his direction. He lifts his hand to wave hello, but his grin falters as soon as he sees the state she’s in: shoulders hunched, sniffling quietly, red hair brushed forward to no doubt hide her teary state. Dean has never seen Charlie below a 3 on the emotion scale and right now she looks at around a -8

“Charlie,” Dean startles her, causing her to look up with red-rimmed eyes. “What the hell is going on? Why are you crying?”

“I got fired!” She blurts out loudly with a hiccup. Dean feels his stomach lurch in response.

“What?” He breathes.

“I got fired!” She repeats, “They said… Roman said that the school reviewed my contract and they decided not to renew it.” Dean shakes his head in disbelief. Charlie is a fantastic teacher, one of the best in the school. She’s upbeat and involved; well-liked by students and staff alike.

“Did… Did he say why?” Dean asks, taking Charlie by the arm and gently pulling her to the side of the hall. He prays it’s not for the reasons he believes it is.

“He said I’m ‘not a good fit,’” Charlie explains, holding up air quotes and choking back a sob.

“Not a good fit?” Dean repeats, his brows furrowing deeply. “What does that mean?”

“What do you think?” Charlie spits out, “It’s bullshit! It’s an excuse to get back at me and to sweep the whole GSA thing under the rug.” Dean stares at her wide-eyed, now completely certain of what his visit to Roman is about.

“Is he at least going to let you finish out the school year?” Dean asks. It’s the middle of May. What would be the point of switching out another teacher for less than a month. Charlie nods stiffly.

“Only because he has to,” she snorts “I had so many plans for next year, Dean. They were finally going to direct one of the shows for the theater department, and now... I’m going to be saying goodbye to all my kids.” Dean frowns deeply.

“Charlie-” He starts, reaching out for her arm but she jerks it away.

“I’m fine, Dean,” She insists, though clearly it’s a lie, “I just… I just need a few minutes.” She looks down and shakes her head, clearly broken by all of this. Dean nods and tells her to call him if she needs anything. She nods glumly and continues down the hall. Dean watches her walk away before turning back in the other direction to face his own consequences.

He walks into the office and past Nancy’s desk. She spares a quick glance at Dean before averting her eyes. Roman’s office door is open and he is busily typing on the computer.

“Sir?” Dean asks, knocking lightly on the door. Roman glances up and gives Dean a diplomatic smile that doesn’t seem to reach his eyes.

“Dean, come in please,” he says. "Close the door and take a seat.” Dean shuts the door and sits down in the chair opposite him. Roman brings his hands together and pauses, looking down at his desk and taking a deep breath.

“Dean,”  he begins, “As you know-”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Dean states plainly, narrowing his eyes. “And it’s not going to work.” Roman looks up at him, his smile growing tighter.

“And what am I trying to do, Dean?” He asks innocently.

“If you trying to fire me, it’s not going to work,” Dean says, “I have tenure. You can’t just cancel my contract. You try and I’m getting the rep from the teacher’s union in here.” The smile drops off of Roman’s face, as if he never realized this fact. He sighs and glares at Dean.

“You may have tenure, Dean, but that doesn’t make you infallible,” Roman explains, “Since you put the school in bad light-”

“‘Bad Light?’ What the Hell is that?” Dean cuts him off. Roman looks up from his desk with an irritated glare.

“I have set in motion the necessary actions for an immediate suspension,” Roman continues.

“What?” Dean mutters,

“Due to the disruptive nature of your current actions-”

“Disruptive nature?” Dean gapes, “Because of the news story? You were involved too, you bastard!”

“ _You will let me finish_!” Roman shouts before immediately composing himself. “As I was saying, due to the disruptive nature of your actions, we are asking for an immediate suspension without pay pending a meeting with the board.” Dean’s face goes blank, Roman’s words echoing in his head.

“You can’t just do this!” he argues, “This is illegal. You’re… you’re required to give me some kind of notice or… some sort of documentation of misconduct.” Roman’s face doesn’t change, clearly apathetic to his concerns.

“Normally yes,” he replies, “But under circumstances where we feel the student’s well-being is at risk-”

“So you’re lumping me in with drug addicts and sexual predators?” Dean shouts. Roman raises a sardonic brow, answering the question without saying a word.

“You will be contacted shortly regarding the meeting with the school board.” Roman says. Roman picks a folder up off his desk and pulls out a stapled stack of papers.  He offers it to Dean, who takes it automatically.

“This is documentation of your suspension,” Roman says. “Will I need security to escort you off the property?” Dean numbly takes the sheet and reads it over. Words like “moral fortitude” and “student’s educational well-being” jump out at him, but he can’t seem to process the rest. In the back of his mind, he knows he needs to talk to Sam. Roman is pulling some underhanded shit here and there is no way this can be legal.

“You can’t be fucking serious?” Dean mutters lowly. “You actually think I’m a threat to the students or the school?” Roman sits up straight, lacing his fingers together on top of his deak.

“That is a decision for the board to make,” Roman answers, a triumphant smile barely cracking through the stoic facade. “I am just looking out for my students. The school is asking you to leave as a precaution.” As much as Dean wants to fight and rail against this, he knows any unruly behavior, especially in Roman’s presence, will just be used against him.

“You know I’m going to fight this,” Dean states, eyes locked on Roman, “I don’t know what kind of power trip you’re on, but you aren’t going to get away with this.” Dean swear he sees Roman’s expression falter for a second before correcting itself.

“Let’s agree to disagree on that, Mr. Winchester,” Roman answers, a sly, triumphant grin crossing his features. He turns his attention back to his computer and Dean realizes he is being dismissed.

Dean turns and walks out the door, making sure he has his head held high. He can at least hold onto some his pride. The walk back to his room seems to take forever and when he arrives, his lunch study group is lined up, waiting at the locked door.

“You’re late, Mr. Winchester,” Channing says. Dean’s expression breaks and he looks away, not able to meet her eye.

“Study session is cancelled today,” he mutters. He opens the door, moving to the cabinet to grab his messenger bag. His students follow him inside, but he doesn’t have the ability to explain right now.

“Mr. Winchester?” Kevin pipes up after a long minute.

“What?” Dean growls, inwardly berating himself about not taking his mood out on the kids. He sort through the paper on his desk. He doesn’t have time to make a lesson plan for a sub, but he can at least organize it into some sort of sense.  

“What… What are you doing?” Kevin continues.”Why are you canceling our study hour?” Dean rises to his feet and turns to the group.

“I am taking a leave of absence,” Dean explains, calmly as he can.

“What? When?” Channing asks, her voice squeaking.

“Starting now,” Dean answers, “Why don’t you guys head to the library. I’ve got to get some things cleaned up before I leave.” Dean scratches a note on a post-it pad. None of his students move, through, continuing to watch him.

“Look, guys,” Dean finally announces, “we’re not studying today. I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but-”

“Did they fire you?” Tracy blurts out, face scrunched, “Over the GSA thing?” Dean looks away. He is caught between explaining the situation and digging himself a deeper hole with the school and Roman.

“Oh my God, you got fired because you’re gay?!” Andy shouts. Dean holds out his hands, shushing  him harshly.

“Would you keep your voice down!” he hisses. He groans and scrubs a hand down his face. Might as well nip this in the bud, or else it will run through the entire junior class like wildfire.

“I’ve been suspended pending a board review due to my involvement with the news story regarding the GSA,” Dean explains quietly. Tracy and Channing’s faces fall and Becky brings her hand to her mouth with a gasp. “I’m not fired but… but I am facing some disciplinary action.”

“They’re not even going to let you finish out the year?” Kevin asks in disgust, “We have three weeks left! What’s the fucking point?” Dean’s eyebrows raise. Kevin is a quiet studious kid; Dean’s never heard him say ‘damn’, much less drop an F-bomb.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, Kevin. I’ve never… I’ve never dealt with something like this before,” Dean says. “I can’t talk about this right now, guys, especially not with you.”

“Why?” Andy asks.

“Because you’re my students,” Dean replies. He picks the box off the floor with a huff and sets it on his desk as he slips his messenger bag over his shoulders.

“Look, go talk to Ms. Mills, she should be able to help you,” Dean offers as the small group watches him forlornly. He grabs up the box and walks to the door, “Have a good summer guys.” Without another word, Dean turns and walks down the hallway. He’s 100 feet away when a voice calls out after him.

“Mr. Winchester!” Tracy hurries after him meeting him as he gets to the stairs. “What about Ms. Bradbury? Did she…” She trails off.

“She’s still here, but… but she won’t be here next year,” Dean answers, nodding sadly. “I’m sorry, Tracy,” He answers, unable to meet her eyes.

“They can just do that?” Tracy gasps in disbelief.

“For a newer teacher, yeah,” Dean replies. “Take care of yourself, ok?” He takes  a step down the stairs when Tracy pipes up behind him.

“Thank you,” she says, “For trying at least...  with the GSA and stuff.” Dean shakes his head and snorts.

“Well, sorry we weren’t successful.” He mutters. Tracy shakes her head.

“But you tried. You didn’t just take no for an answer.’” Tracy points out. “I hope you fight this too, so… thanks.” Dean watches as she turns and walks back down the hall. Her words are a small comfort, but it’s something he can cling to at least.

He descends the stairs and heads to the staff parking lot. It’s quiet and thankfully he could easily be mistaken for a someone simply going out to lunch rather than a guy exiting in defeat.

He unlocks the Impala and drops his stuff on the passenger seat, sliding into the driver’s side. He sits in silence for a long moment, slowly dissecting what just took place.

He might very well lose his job if the board agrees with Roman, and they likely will. He might lose all of his credibility as a teacher.

Dean slumps forward, letting his head hit the steering wheel with a thunk. He is suddenly and intensely miserable. His stomach lurches and for a moment he thinks he may throw up. He breathes deeply through his nose, trying to steady himself. Dean pulls his phone from his pocket and sees Cas’ smiling face looking back at him from the lock screen.

Dean feels some of the tension to drain out of him as he looks at Cas’ picture. At that moment, all he wants is to see his boyfriend and be close to him. He unlocks the phone and dials Cas’ number. It rings a few times before his voicemail picks up.

“Uh, hey Cas,” Dean starts, trying to sound upbeat, “I was wondering if you’d like to grab lunch or something… I’d, uh, really like to see you… Um, love you. Bye.” Dean hangs up the phone and sighs. He taps his cell to his chin and thinks to himself. Cas will call him back  in a minute anyway, he might as well head toward downtown, Dean reasons.  He sets the phone on the seat beside him and starts the engine.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel feels his phone buzz against his leg, but he’s too immersed in edits to answer it. He managed to trade off with Ava so he doesn’t have to deal with Bartholomew, but now he’s stuck doing an endless stream 15-second bumpers. They are easy, but repetitive and boring. He sighs and rubs at his eyes, sore from staring at the screen for hours on end.

Cas glances at the clock at  the computer screen; 12:45 it reads. He realizes he hasn’t had anything to eat since 6 am. He stands from his chair and stretches languidly, walking out of the editing bay toward the break room.

The room is blissfully empty, but unfortunately so is the coffee pot. Cas groans and goes about making a fresh pot.

“Hey there, stranger.” A sick chill runs Cas’ spine at the sound of Bartholomew’s voice. “Where have you been hiding?” Castiel refuses to answer, clenching his jaw and focusing his attention on making coffee. Bartholomew strides forward, sidling up next to Cas.

“What’s wrong?” he sighs. Castiel bites an angry retort, nostrils flaring. He can feel his ears reddening and wants nothing more than to run from the room and hide in the editing bay once more.

“Castiel, please,” Bartholomew rubs a hand down Castiel’s back. His skin crawls at the contact and he has had enough.

“Get away from me,” He hisses, taking a step away. Bartholomew narrows his gaze tilting his head as he considers him.

“Castiel, this hostility is really unwarranted on your part,” he says simply, “I mean, I’m the one who should be upset. I have been nothing but friendly and I just keep getting the cold shoulder from you.” Castiel finally meets his gaze, glaring at Bartholomew.

“For the love of God, I don’t know why you’re doing this,” Castiel admits. he’s so tired of this shit and he’s ready to give up. Bartholomew’s expression softens and he smiles warmly at Cas.

“Castiel, I just want you,” he offers with faux sweetness, “that’s all.” Castiel flinches as he places a hand on his hip. He steps back quickly, hitting the wall behind him.

“That’s not going to happen,” Cas musters his resolve, “I am not some sort of… thing that you can just have-”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Bartholomew takes a step forward, pressing Castiel against the wall. He wraps a hand around Cas’ arms, squeezing tightly.

“I have tried to be patient with you,” Bartholomew is still smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His face is just inches from Cas’. “I have tried to be friendly, but I am fucking done. If you don’t think I can ruin you-“

“Cas?” Cas looks up  in horror to see Dean standing in the break room doorway.

“Dean?” he breathes. He takes the distraction as an opportunity to escape from Bartholomew, slipping out of his grip. Bartholomew smiles snidely at Dean.

“So this is the famous-” Before the words can leave his mouth, Dean has him slammed against the opposite wall, forearm pressed tightly to his neck.

“You listen to me, fuckwad,” Dean mutters lowly, “If you _ever_ lay a hand on Cas again, I will personally castrate you with a potato peeler. You leave my friends, my boyfriend, and especially _me_ alone or you will regret it, I can promise you that.” The smile slips from Bartholomew’s face and he glares at Dean.

Castiel watches in horror as this scene unfolds. He pushes himself off the wall and grabs at Dean’s arm.

“Dean, c’mon, let’s go,” he says, trying to keep his voice down. “Please, let’s go.” Dean’s eyes flick to Cas and his grip on a gasping Bartholomew loosens. Dean pulls his arm away and he collapse against the wall, coughing fitfully. His eyes don’t leave Dean’s.

Castiel tugs at Dean’s arm, pulling him toward the elevators. His singular thought is getting Dean away from the office.

 

* * *

 

 

“What the Hell is wrong with you?!” Cas yells as they exit through the back door. Castiel had gone completely numb in the break room but as soon as he hit the ground floor, he was furious.

“What do you mean ‘What the Hell is wrong with me?’” Dean gapes. “What was going on back there?” Castiel narrows his gaze at Dean, giving him a serious look.

“I wasn’t cheating on you,” He says flatly. Dean’s jaw drops open.

“I never said you were,” He gapes, face twisting in confusion. “I thought you said that Bartholomew wasn’t doing anything inappropriate. The guy practically had his hand down your pants.” Castiel opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.

“Dean, this is my workplace. What happens here is none of your concern.” Castiel finally stammers out dismissively. “What are you even doing out here? Don’t you have school?” Dean looks like he’s been punched in the gut.

“I called you,” Dean answers quietly, “And you didn’t answer." Dean's expression hardens and his tone turns sarcastic.

"Sorry for defending you against the asshole trying out his Christian Grey impression.” Castiel glares at Dean. He takes a deep breath, trying to be rational inspite of himself

“Dean-” he starts.

“How long has he been doing this?” Dean asks, “Have you ever reported him?” Castiel laughs bitterly and takes a step toward Dean.

“You don’t understand,” Castiel explains, “My job, my reputation is one the line-”

“Your reputation?” Dean squawks in disbelief, “Charlie just got fired, I’ve been suspended, I may lose my job, and you’re worried your reputation?!” Castiel blinks dumbly at Dean, his excuses dying on his tongue. All of the guilt from the last couple weeks that has been held back by Dean like a dam, quickly rushes over him.

“You got fired?” Castiel mutters in shock. Dean exhales harshly and scrubs a hand down his face, nodding.

“Not yet… but they are trying,” he mumbles. “Roman pulled some underhanded shit. I have to go in front of the school board. Who knows who he is in cahoots with.” Castiel steps forward, reaching out for Dean but he jerks back.

“Don’t,” he snarls, “I am… so pissed off at you right now!”

“What? Why?” Castiel gapes, anxiety and confusion turning his veins cold.

“You said he wasn’t do anything wrong, nothing you could report.” Dean barks, “From what I saw that was pretty blatant sexual harassment, if not assault, and, and… you’re worried about your reputation!” Castiel flinches at each harsh word. He stares at his feet, wanting to curl in on himself.

“I… it’s not-” He starts quietly, trying to find something to say

“One report, Cas. One, and this entire mess with Roman and the GSA could’ve been avoided,” Dean rails, pacing back and forth in anger.

“It would’ve blown over,” Cas insists, “He would’ve gotten bored and then…”

“And moved on to someone else?” Dean points out sarcastically. “Do you really believe that a person like that just stops?” Dean points a finger at Cas, about to say something, but he shakes his head instead.

“Forget it,” Dean mutters, pulling his keys from his pocket. “This is too much. I need some time to think.” He turns and starts walking away. Castiel’s eyes widen in horror.

“Wait!” He chases after Dean frantically. “Where are you going? What…?” Cas wants to ask “What does this mean?” but he’s too scared to hear the answer.

“I’m going for a drive,” Dean replies coolly. He stops in his tracks and looks back at Cas, green eyes hard and angry. “I’ll, uh… I’ll give you a call later.” Dean turns and walks down the block, disappearing around the corner.

Cas stands there dumbstruck. He and Dean have had small, playful fights before, but nothing like this. Castiel feels his entire relationship is in limbo.

A choked sob rises from his throat and all at once it’s like he can’t hold back. He sinks to the ground, back pressed against the side of the building and body racking with quiet breathless sobs.

Castiel let’s everything pour out, all of the anger and guilt, for several minutes. As soon as the sobs turn to soft gasps, he pushes himself to his feet, rubbing at his eyes and going back inside.

He’s thankful that most of the office still isn’t back from their lunch break and won’t say anything about his dishevelled state.

Castiel leaves a brief voicemail on Chuck’s phone, saying he doesn’t feel well, double checks his desk to make sure there is nothing he needs and heads for the exit.

He just wants this day to be over.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus!** The amazing [Diminuel](http://diminuel.tumblr.com/) ( [Sillyblue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyBlue/pseuds/SillyBlue) on AO3) made some [art](http://diminuel.tumblr.com/post/111019784035/i-had-to-take-a-break-from-reading-the-newest) in reaction to this chapter. I've been told it helps.
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your patience. I know the last chapter was painful, and I promise to make it up to you here :)
> 
> BTW: If you haven't seen it yet, The amazing [Diminuel](http://diminuel.tumblr.com/) ( [Sillyblue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyBlue/pseuds/SillyBlue) on AO3) made some [art](http://diminuel.tumblr.com/post/111019784035/i-had-to-take-a-break-from-reading-the-newest) in reaction to the last chapter.

Dean is fuming. He drives through downtown muttering half thought out arguments to himself. He’s pissed at Cas, he’s pissed at Roman, and he’s _especially_ pissed at that Bartholomew piece of shit. Hell, he’s even pissed at Charlie a little bit. All the shit that is happening feels like karma is laughing at him, reminding him that everything good in life comes at a price. Dean feels his blood pressure rising. He needs to vent his frustration somewhere, so he calls the only person he can think of who might listen. He angrily struggles to pull his cell phone from his pocket and taps the number he wants.

“Hey Sam,” Dean tries (and fails) to keep his voice upbeat.

“What’s going on Dean?” Sam sounds distracted. Dean can hear the sound of papers rustling and knows Sam is no doubt searching for something on his desk.

“I was wondering if you wanted to take a quick lunch break? Grab a beer or something?” Dean is a about 90% sure Sam didn’t take a break today, most likely eating a salad in his office instead. There is a heavy sigh at the end of the line.

“Dean, I’m swamped right now,” Sam mumbles distractedly. “Maybe this weekend or-”

“Poughkeepsie,” Dean mutters, utilizing their childhood code word. When they were kids it meant “drop everything and run”; a sly warning to each other to stay away from the house if their parents were fighting or if Grandpa Campbell happened to drop in for an unexpected visit. Now, though, it’s taken on the meaning of “stop whatever you are doing because I need you.” Sam is quiet on the other end of the line. Dean can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” he mumbles. “What’s going on? Where do you want to meet?”

“Is there a bar near your office or something?” Dean asks. “I don’t… it’s complicated.” Sam gives him the address of a nearby pub. Dean takes the next turnoff, backtracking his way through the city.

By the time he arrives, Dean’s head is spinning with frustration and dejection. He pulls up outside the bar, throwing the impala into park. Sam is already in a booth, two beers sitting across from each other.

“Hey,” he says as Dean slides into the seat. “What’s so important that you need to pull me out of the office for day-drinking?” Dean looks at Sam seriously.

“I might be getting fired,” Dean says. Sam’s eyes widen comically.

“Wait, what?” He leans forward, expression pinched in confusion. “What do you mean you might get fired? Over this news story? I thought they had to give you a warning or something.” Dean sighs, taking a much-needed drink. He flatly relates everything to Sam, quickly glossing over his fight with Cas at the end. Sam stares at him, face pinched in concentration. He’s silent for a long moment after Dean finishes.

“Jesus Christ Dean,” Sam growls, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are such an asshole.” Dean gapes in shock.

“What?!” He gawks. “How am I an asshole?” Sam gives him the bitchface-to-end-all-bitchfaces.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Sam asks. “Have you ever dealt with victims of sexual harassment? Because I have. They place much of the blame on themselves, especially if they were previously involved with their harasser.”

“Cas knows he’s not to blame,” Dean interjects dismissively. “I mean, he talks all the time about how much of a jackass this guy is.”

“One that obviously has some kind of authority over him,” Sam points out. “It’s not all in his head either. The station clearly sides with this Bartholomew.”

“Yeah, but even so… there’s no way they would let him get away with the way he’s treating Cas if they knew,” Dean says. “But Cas is doing nothing. In fact, he lied about what was going on and then starts talking about ‘his reputation this, his reputation that...’”

“He’s scared Dean!” Sam exclaims, pulling at his hair in exasperation. “Of course he’s going to lie.”

“Scared of what?” Dean asks, truly confused as to what Sam is getting at.

“Of this guy going after you!” Sam shouts, loud enough so that the few heads in the bar turn in their direction. “This guy has already shown that he has no qualms about attacking Cas’ friend to get to him. Cas’ job is under threat, as is his _boyfriend_ ,” Sam eyes Dean deliberately, “and you have the _balls_ to yell at him and blame him for Charlie getting fired?!”

All at once, it’s like a tidal wave of shame slams over Dean. His shoulders curl in and his head drops forward, eyes locked on his half-empty beer.

“I _am_ a fucking asshole,” he mutters sadly. Sam gives a grunt in agreement and quietly sips his drink, giving Dean a moment to stew.

“Oh Sammy, I really fucked up,” Dean admits, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Yeah, you did,” Sam agrees.

“What do I do?” Dean asks, glancing up at his brother. Sam purses his lips and raises an eyebrow.

“First off, quit feeling sorry for yourself. This shit with Roman, we can take care of it,” Sam assures. “All of it sound highly suspicious. He’s most likely trying to throw you off your game or make an example of you. We can talk about it more later.”

“But-” Dean starts.

“ _Then_ ,” Sam continues, “you are going to get out of here and find your boyfriend and beg for his forgiveness.” Dean rubs at his eyes.

“He probably hates me,” Dean goans.

“Maybe,” Sam says, “but sitting here, drinking at 1:30 in the afternoon and bitching about the situation is not going to help matters.” Dean looks at Sam, whose expression is somewhere between affectionate and exasperated.

“Look, Dean... you got in a fight. It happens. Do you think Jess and I don’t fight?” Dean gives Sam a deadpan look.

“Yeah right,” he mumbles sarcastically, draining the rest of his beer.

“No, we do,” Sam insists. “Look, I know you haven’t had too many serious relationships, but one fight shouldn’t make or break it if you love each other.  No relationship is perfect. The key is swallowing your pride and realizing that you are stronger than an argument. I mean, you love Cas, right?”

“Of course.”  

“And if it ended right now, how devastated would you be?” Dean looks away sadly, unable to answer. The thought of not being with Cas turns his stomach.

“Right now, he’s going through a lot and he needs someone to lean on,” Sam continues. “Be his rock. You don’t have to agree with everything he says or does, but you need to be ready to stand by his side.” Dean looks at Sam carefully.

“If I were him, I wouldn’t forgive me,” Dean admits, scratching a fingernail into the wood grain of the table.

“That’s because you’re too hard on yourself Dean,” Sam says, mouth curling at the corners. “At least give Cas the opportunity.”

Dean nods solemnly. He rises from the booth and goes to grab his wallet out of his jeans.

“I’ve got this,” Sam says, waving Dean’s money away. “Just get out of here and say you’re sorry, alright?” Dean pats Sam’s shoulder warmly as he passes him heading towards the door.

He slips into the front seat of the Impala, taking a second to steady his nerves before starting the engine.

He knows Sam is right; one fight shouldn’t make or break what he and Cas have. He just hopes that Cas agrees.

* * *

 

Cas sits in his living room, glumly watching the muted TV. His untouched cup of tea sits on the coffee table, cooling quickly. He thought it might help settle his nerves, but he doesn’t have the stomach to drink it.

He keeps thinking about everything Dean said. If he had just told someone about Bartholomew’s behavior from the beginning, or if he had just been more adamant about not working with the man, all of this could have been avoided. Rachel or Naomi would have gotten the story, everything would have gone as expected and Dean… well, Castiel wouldn’t be sitting here alone on a workday, wondering where they stand.

He can’t imagine how much Dean hates him right now. The look in his eyes when he caught Cas and Bartholomew was so confused and hurt. Castiel rubs a hand down his face, attempting to scrub the memory from his brain. He sits up, reaching out for his mug when he hears the familiar growl of an engine coming down the street. Castiel jumps to his feet, his heart beating fast. He rushes to the door and glances out the peephole just as the Impala is pulling up to the curb.

Castiel steps back from the door. He’s unprepared to talk to Dean again. He debates not answering, but he has no doubt Dean knows that he is home. His car is parked in the driveway. He takes a deep breath and opens the door as Dean steps up onto his small porch.

Dean startles at the door opening, hand already held out to ring the bell.

“Uh, hey Cas,” Dean says. His expression lacks all the anger from earlier, and Cas feels a small sense of relief at that. “I wasn’t… I was planning on waiting out here until you got home from work-”

“I took the afternoon off,” Cas says quietly. Dean hums in understanding, strangely quiet and absently rubbing the back of his neck.

“Would you like to come in?” Cas asks. Dean looks up and nods, following Cas through the front door. As soon as they reach the living room, Dean turns to him.

“Cas-”

“Dean, I need to apologize,” Cas stammers out. Dean’s brows furrow deeply.

“Wait, What?” He asks.

“You were right. I… I spent so much time thinking about how people might perceive me that I didn’t… It doesn’t matter what my professional reputation is if Bartholomew is making my work environment miserable.” Castiel places a hand on his chest, no longer bearing the burden. Just saying it out loud feels like a long exhale after holding his breath for months. Dean takes a step forward and places a hand on his arm.

“Cas, please don’t,” he says softly. “I need to apologize to you. I acted like a selfish jackass and then blew up at you-”

“But Dean-” Dean shakes his head emphatically, cutting Cas off.

“No, no, I need to say this,” he continues. “I’m so sorry for everything I said. You deserved none of it. I was frustrated and angry at Roman and myself. I know that’s no excuse, but at least I realize what I did wrong.  I just… I can’t… I don’t want to lose you. Not on top of everything else.” Dean’s words rush out frantically. Cas’ eyes soften and he watches Dean slump down to the couch.

“I know I fucked up, and I’m willing to put in whatever work it takes to keep us going,” Dean says, “because we’re something good, y’know? I’m not going to lose that.” Dean lets his head drop into his hands glumly. Castiel slowly lowers himself onto the couch next to Dean. He leans forward cautiously, like he’s afraid Dean will spook, and wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders. Castiel sighs softly as Dean leans into the hug.

“Please forgive me,” Dean mumbles into Cas’ shoulder. Cas closes his eyes and tightens his embrace.

“Of course I forgive you,” he laughs softly. “Thank you for coming back.” Castiel smiles against Dean’s shoulder and plants a soft kiss at the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean inhales and turns his head, allowing Cas more room. He mouths over the column of Dean’s neck and the bolt of his jaw until his lips are locked onto Dean’s.

They kiss tenderly for some time, just enjoying the connection. Dean’s mouth opens lazily against Cas’, allowing their tongues to slide together. Dean’s hand move up over Cas’ back, untucking his dress shirt and splaying his fingers over the warm skin beneath it.

Dean’s touch has Cas moaning into his mouth and curling his body until he’s practically in Dean’s lap.

“Love you so much,” Cas murmurs between kisses.

“Love you too,” Dean responds before latching onto Cas’ throat and sucking a soft bruise. Cas gasps in response and clutches at the fabric of Dean’s shirt.

“Want you,” Cas moans. Dean hums enthusiastically in agreement. He rises from the couch, pulling Cas up with him. Cas smiles into the kiss and wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders, letting himself be lead through his house.

Clothes are quickly lost as they navigate their way to the bedroom: First Cas’ shirt, then Dean shoes and jacket. Cas’ fingers are deftly working on the fly of Dean’s slacks when they finally reach the bedroom door. Dean pulls back, finally separating from the kiss.

“I can think of one upside to fighting,” Dean says with a cocky grin. Cas raises a questioning  eyebrow. “Make-up sex.”

Cas shakes his head and snorts. He takes a step forward, lightly grasping Dean’s hands in his. Dean leans down, pressing his forehead against Cas’, before moving further and capturing his lips once more.

Cas responds hungrily, cupping the back of Dean’s head with his hands. He feels Dean moving him backward toward the bed. The crook of his knees hit the edge and he falls back with a grunt, parting from the kiss.

“Scoot back,” Dean says, kneeling to the floor. Cas does as he is told, scooting up toward the head of the bed. Dean quickly undoes Cas’ pants and shucks the rest of his clothes to the floor. He crawls over a now-bare Castiel, slowly mouthing over his hip bone and up his torso. Cas lets his head fall back onto the pillow with a sigh.

Dean’s hand trails up the inside of Cas’ leg. He squirms at the touch and makes an irritated noise.

“Are we ticklish Cas?” Dean asks coyly, glancing up at him.

“Don’t,” Cas warns as he tries to stifle a giggle. Dean hums and plants a row of kisses up Cas’ neck.

“Or what?” Dean challenges when they are once again eye to eye. “What are you going to do, Cas?” Dean slides a still-clothed leg between his. Cas sighs in relief at the friction.

“Why are you still dressed?” Cas asks. He reaches down, tugging at the edge of Dean’s shirt and pulling it off him. Castiel spreads his hands over the naked expanse of Dean’s chest as Dean fiddles with the button of his own slacks and then his boxers, kicking them off inelegantly.

“That’s better,” Cas says, smiling to himself. He inhales sharply as he feels Dean wrap a hand around his hardening cock.

“What do you want Cas?” Dean whispers against his skin. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“You,” Cas answers breathlessly. Dean’s fist pumps over his shaft and Cas rocks his hips up into the movement absently.

“How?” Dean asks. He ruts against Cas’ thigh in rhythm with his hand.

“Want to ride you,” Cas gasps. A shiver runs through him as Dean swipes a dribble of precome over the head and down the shaft. Cas pushes himself up, crawling over Dean to his nightstand to grab the lube. As soon as he settles back onto the bed, Dean takes the bottle from him.

“I can do it,” Dean says, but the look on his face tells Cas that it’s more of a request. He nods and cups a hand around the back of Dean’s head, bringing their mouths together in a kiss.

Cas lays back onto the bed and closes his eyes. He drops his legs open, giving Dean access. He hears the click of the lube bottle and holds his breath in anticipation until he feels the first cool touch of a slick finger against his hole.

Dean’s movements are hesitant, still a bit uncoordinated. It feels good, but it’s not what Cas wants. He pushes back onto Dean’s hand, silently demanding more, faster, _something_. Dean adds a second digit after a minute, and Cas sighs in relief at the wonderful burn. He moans softly, trying to encourage Dean.

Castiel is caught off-guard by Dean’s tongue lapping up the underside of his shaft. He looks down to see Dean eagerly swallow him down as he continues to open Cas up.

“Oh fuck,” Cas sighs, a blissed-out smile on his face. Dean adds a third finger and Castiel squirms at the feeling, hands fisting at the sheets. Dean messily laps at Cas’ cock, his focus clearly split on his two endeavors.

Dean’s fingers crook minutely inside of him, and Castiel arches his back violently with a cry.

“What was that?” Dean mutters, popping off of his dick. Cas can’t help his breathless giggle.

“You found the magic button,” Cas offers lazily with a chuckle, glancing at Dean. “Uh… my prostate.” Dean quirks his mouth to the side before moving his fingers again, causing Cas to writhe in ecstasy once more.

“I’ll have to remember that one,” Dean murmurs. Cas wants to interject, but before he can, Dean is taking his cock back down his throat. The combined sensations of the blow job and Dean’s fingers is too much.

“Dean, please stop,” he cries out. In an instant, Dean pulls off and withdraws his hand, causing Cas to whimper at the loss. Dean’s expression is surprised and pained. Castiel pets a hand down his arms.

“It’s ok,” Cas reassures, “just a little intense. I don’t want to come yet. I want you inside of me.” Dean’s expression snaps from apologetic to sly. He pushes himself forward, kissing Cas enthusiastically.

Dean moves up over Cas, trying to take control, but he has other plans in mind. He wraps his legs around Dean’s waist and abruptly flips them so Cas is on top.

“Want to ride you,” Cas whispers against Dean’s ear.

“Oh God yes,” he groans. Cas reaches back into the nightstand and grabs for a condom. When he he sits back on his haunches, Dean lightly grasps his hand.

“I’m clean,” Dean offers, “I mean… if you…”

“So am I,” Cas replies. “You trust me?” Dean nods enthusiastically. Cas surges forward, briefly capturing Dean’s lips once more. He throws the condom to the side and snatches the lube bottle off the comforter, squirting a small amount into his hand. He scoots back and wraps a hand around Dean’s dick, slicking him up with a few pumps of his wrist.

Cas moves forward and positions himself over Dean’s dick. He lifts off his legs briefly before sinking down with a gasp in one slow movement. His mouth drops open in relief, relishing the full feeling of Dean inside of him. He takes a moment to enjoy it as Dean’s hands clutch fiercely at Cas’ thighs.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” Dean murmurs. Castiel can’t help but smile at that. He opens his eyes and looks at Dean, face flushed and eyes unfocused. Cas lifts up tentatively before coming back down, setting a pace for them. Dean meets the movement of Cas’ hips, thrusting up into him. His hands move up Cas’ thighs and over the firm globes of his ass, giving them a squeeze.

“Lay back,” Cas offers. “Let me take care of you.” He slides his hands up Dean’s chest and begins to fuck himself down onto his dick. Every impact shakes a breathy moan from Cas. Dean pushes himself up on his elbows, taking in the sight before him.

“Look at you,” Dean breathes, reverent of Cas. In an instant, Dean pushes himself upright, positioning Cas in his lap. Cas wraps his hands around Dean’s neck, bringing their mouths together.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas’ waist, bucking up into him. Cas moans loudly, taking comfort in the fact that his neighbors are still at work.

“That’s it,” Dean encourages, reaching a hand between them and wrapping it around Cas’ thick cock. “Come for me, baby. You are so fucking gorgeous like this. I love it… Love you.”

“Love you too,” Cas answers, eyes locked on Dean’s. A hot wave rushes over him as he climaxes, white streams of come spurting between them. Dean continues to pump him through his orgasm, softly mumbling words of praise into his skin.

Cas rocks his hips a few times until Dean throws his head back with a groan, eyes clenched tightly as he comes inside of him.  

They sit there in breathless silence, wrapped around each other. Castiel rests his forehead on Dean’s shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment and enjoying the afterglow. Dean shifts first and Castiel takes the hint, slipping off of Dean and falling back onto the bed. He watches as Dean reaches down and picks up his t-shirt, wiping the mess off of his stomach and hand before cleaning off Castiel.

He throws the soiled shirt to the side and lays down on the bed, pulling Castiel against his chest and into his arms. Cas sighs deeply, snuggling into Dean’s embrace.

“I’m going tell my supervisor tomorrow,” Castiel mumbles softly, breaking the silence. “About Bartholomew and what’s been going on.” Dean’s features pinch in concern.

“Cas, you don’t have to do anything you don’t-”

“No, I need to,” Cas shakes his head. “You were right; Bartholomew won’t stop. If this keeps going, it’s only going to get worse because he’ll think it’s ok. He’ll find another target after he’s done with me and if I don’t say anything… I’ll be complicit in what happens to them.” Dean kisses the top of Cas’ head.

“You are not responsible for that fuckwad’s actions,” Dean insists.

“I know, but..” he trails off, burying his head against Dean’s chest, “if I don’t try and stop him, I will be.” Dean reaches a hand down, tipping Cas’ head up to look at him.

“Whatever you do,” Dean says, “I’m at your side. You know that, right?” Cas smiles affectionately and nods. Dean presses a soft kiss against his lips.

“Love you,” he whispers. Castiel feels his stomach flip at those words; He’s not sure he’ll ever get over the sound of Dean saying he loves him.

“Love you too Dean,” Castiel mumbles, resting his head against Dean bicep. “So, so much.”

****  
  


* * *

 

Castiel walks into the station building the next morning with purpose. As soon as he gets into the office, he’s going to drop off his stuff, log into his computer, and shoot Chuck an email stating that he needs to speak to him at his earliest convenience.

However, as soon as Cas steps out of the elevator doors, it’s clear something isn’t right. The entire newsroom floor is eerily quiet. Cas checks his watch, but as expected, it’s 8:30. He walks past row after row of empty cubicles until he finds the issue.

Everyone on the floor is silently grouped around a small floor-level air vent on the south end of the room. Cas spots Ava and sidles up to her.

“Hello,” Cas says, earning an emphatic shush from about five people. Castiel drops the volume of his voice. “What’s going on?”

“Bartholomew is getting fired,” Ava mumbles, not looking at him.

“What!?” Cas exclaims, eliciting more shushes from the gathered crowd. A swell of relief mixed with confusion washes over him at the news. Ava nods quickly.

“Yeah, he’s getting his ass handed to him right now by station management on the 9th floor.” Ava explains quietly, “you can hear it through the vent.” Castiel listens carefully and, sure enough, a deep, rumbling voice echoes out through the airway followed by Bartholomew’s unmistakable baritone. The words are impossible to make out, but the tone of the voices make it very clear that they are fighting.

“Are you sure?” Castiel asks, unable to keep the giddiness out of his voice. “What happened?” Ava glances at him out of the corner of her eye. She loves to gossip and the opportunity to share news with someone will no doubt make her day.

“Apparently, our Bartholomew has a hard time playing nice with others or keeping his hands to himself,” Ava offer confidentially. “I don’t really know the circumstances, but I guess there are some accusations of sexual harassment and assault, and the station is taking it _very_ seriously.” Castiel’s expression drops and he feels like the world tilts on his side. Someone told management about him? He racks his brains, trying to think of who else might have seen him and Bartholomew. He’s lost in thought, when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Castiel,” he turns toward the familiar voice to see Gabriel standing behind him. Everything clicks in place as soon as Cas sees his face.

“Gabriel,” Cas hisses, suddenly irate. “What did-”

“Whoa, Whoa, Whoa!” Gabriel holds up his hands. “Before you say anything, I didn’t say a word about… well…” Gabe trails off and glances around at the group of people surrounding them. He grabs Castiel by the arm and pulls him to a more deserted part of the office.

“I didn’t say a word about you, I swear,” Gabe says once they’re alone.

“But how?” Castiel asks, very confused.

“I figured that if he was going after you like that, there might be others,” Gabe replies with a shrug. “So I did a little digging, and it turns out I was right. Too right, unfortunately.” Castiel’s eyes widen comically.

“Who?” He asks.

“Let’s see…” Gabe mumbles. “Muriel in Accounting, Anna in the graphics department, Alfie-”

“The Camera guy?” Cas gapes in disbelief. “He’s barely out of college!”

“Still in college, actually,” Gabe corrects. “This is his internship. You should’ve seen the filthy shit old Barty was sending him.” Gabe whistles lowly. Castiel sinks down into a nearby desk chair, gobsmacked by this information.

“He was harassing all of them?” He asks. It had never occurred to him that there already were others like himself.

“Yeah,” Gabe nods, “and those were just the ones willing to testify against him.”

“Testify?” Cas asks. “He’s going to court?” Gabe looks at him like it’s obvious.

“Of course,” Gabe replies. “Station’s pressing charges actually.” Castiel scrubs a hand down his face. He should be feeling a sense of relief, but something is still wrong.

“I’m sorry to go behind your back like this,” Gabe offers, kneeling down so he’s eye to eye with Cas. “I just couldn’t let that bag-o’-dicks get away with what he was doing. It wasn’t right. And hey, look at the bright side: none of it can be traced back to you.”

“No,” Cas says abruptly, sitting up straight. “No, I want to testify, too. Can I still do that?” Gabe raises an eyebrow, clearly confused.

“Yeah,” Gabe says carefully, “but you’re under no obligation-”

“Would it help the case against him?” Castiel asks emphatically. Gabe tilts his head and considers him.

“You really want to do this, huh?” He asks. Castiel nods, mumbling an affirmative under his breath.

“I should have said something from the start,” he admits. Gabe snorts softly and rises to his feet.

“Well, in that case, there is something I need you to see,” Gabe says. Castiel glances up at him, but Gabe only wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and tilts his head to the side, indicating for him to follow.

Castiel jumps to his feet and trails after Gabriel. They stop momentarily when they reach the crowd gathered around the air vent, all eyes turned on a member of the building’s security department escorting Bartholomew out. He carries a box in his hands (no doubt his personal effects from his office) and keeps his eyes downcast as he heads to the elevator bay. Castiel watches him unblinking. He needs to know that assbutt is gone, and only when he sees the elevator doors close does he find himself exhaling painfully.

“C’mon Castiel,” Gabriel tugs at his arm. Castiel follows him to the large windows overlooking the staff parking lot. “Look.” Gabe points a finger toward the back of the lot. Castiel squints, eyes focusing on what Gabe is pointing to.

It looks like Bartholomew’s Audi, but there’s something different about it: rather than a shiny, candy apple red, it’s white.

“What did you do?” Cas asks lowly.

“I… may have given Bartholomew’s car...” Gabe circles his hand around as he tries to find the word, “… an impromptu paint job.” Castiel’s eyes go large and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“You painted his fucking car white?!” He hisses in disbelief. Gabriel gives a stiff, guilty grin.

“Actually, I didn’t have any paint, so I used my own concoction of strawberry syrup and birdseed,” Gabe shrugs. “The pigeons took care of the rest.” Cas gapes, head turning from Gabe to the window and back again. A wide smile slowly spreads across his face.

“That’s birdshit?” He asks with a laugh.

“The St. John’s River’s finest,” Gabe assures, rocking back on his heels. “Oh, and I also stuffed dead fish in the air intake. The seagulls went nuts over that… to bad the smell won’t ever come out.” Castiel cackles uncontrollably, body shaking with laughter. It’s infectious, and soon Gabriel is giggling as well.

“Oh my God,” Cas gasps, wiping at the corner of his eye. “How?... Why…?” Gabe shakes his head.

“Legal battles are fine and all,” Gabe explains, “but they don’t pack the same punch as caked birdshit on an asshole’s car.” Castiel bursts out laughing once again.

“Oh hey, Castiel, look!” Gabe grabs Cas by the chin and turns his attention back out the window. He sees the small figure of Bartholomew walk up to his car, see it, drop his box, and then proceed to scream and curse loud enough for it to be heard 8 floors up.

“Won’t you get in trouble for this?” Cas asks, stifling a laugh. Gabe shrugs dismissively.

“I can’t control what the birds do,” Gabe counters. “If I could though… Woo-wee!” Castiel chuckles to himself. He grabs his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and tapping the camera on.

He’s got to get some pictures of this for Dean.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to [ANobleCompanion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion) for her beta assistance and expertise once again. 
> 
> We're drawing close to the end of our story, folks. Only a couple more chapters left.

Dean pulls into the driveway of Balthazar and Meg’s house. Pink and Purple balloons are tied to the mailbox, the front porch rails, even the antenna of Meg’s car. Across the front porch hangs a banner reading “ _Happy 3rd Birthday, Princess Cecily!_ ” Cas hops out of the car, smiling at the assortment of decorations. Dean whistles lowly.

“Wow,” he mumbles. “I wouldn’t have expected for Meg to go all out like this.”

“This was Balthazar’s doing actually,” Cas replies. Dean looks at him incredulously as Cas opens the door to the back seat and pulls out a giant box almost half as tall as he is.

“Jeez Cas,” Dean mutters, hurrying to Cas’ side to help him. “Are you looking to throw your back out?”

“I’m looking to win Uncle of the Year,” Cas says facetiously. “Meg’s sister always one-ups me on the presents, but this time... I’ve got her beat!” Dean laughs at the triumphant look in Cas’ eyes.

“What’d you get her?” He asks.

“Dollhouse,” he replies. “Even better, it’s a castle dollhouse.” He grunts as he tries to reposition his hands and heft the box up.

“Uh… She’s three,” Dean says, walking backwards and holding on to opposite end of the box. “Isn’t she a little young for this?” Cas huffs as they finally set the box on the porch next to the front door.

“Doesn’t matter,” Cas states firmly. “Ruby is not going to win this time.” Dean smiles at him, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss just as the front door opens.

“Really guys?” Meg gripes playfully. “This is a child’s birthday party!” Castiel snorts and leans down, giving her a hug.

“How are you doing Meg?”

“About to tear my hair out. Yourself?” She glances down at the box on her doorstep and sighs. “Holy shit Cas, that’s taller than Cecily.”

“She’s going to love it, I swear,” Cas says as he tries to maneuver the box from the front porch into the entryway. Meg catches Dean’s eye and shakes her head in exasperation.

“Cas and my sister have an on-going competition to be the favorite relative,” she explains.

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Which I should win!” Cas announces. “Ruby thinks that she can just fly in twice a year and be the best-”

“Oh, don’t take it so seriously Cas,” Meg assures, leaning over and moving the box with a surprising amount of strength for someone her size.

“You don’t feel like helping Dean-o?” Meg asks expectantly.

“Hey, I helped get it up the porch steps,” he offers with a shrug. Once they get it into the living room, Castiel stands up and dusts off his hands.

“We can just leave it here for now,” he says. “I’ll grab the hand truck from the garage before we open presents.” Meg looks at the offending box sitting in the middle of her living room.

“What on Earth did you buy that child that weighs 70 lbs?”

“Caste Dollhouse,” Cas beams. Meg’s shoulders slump and she looks up at him apologetically. His face falls. “What? Why are you making that face? What did Ruby get her?” Meg shakes her head and turns toward the kitchen.

“You’ll see,” she murmurs. Cas and Dean follow her out the back door to the party, already in full effect. A dozen small children run screaming past Cas and Dean, causing them both to jump back in alarm.

“Sorry,” Meg says. “It’s a side effect of too much sugar and missed nap times.” As she says this, Balthazar, dressed in Medieval garb, comes tearing across the lawn with a giggling Hannah in his arms.

“We’re off to slay the dragon!” He announces. He stops briefly in front of the trio, quickly pecking Meg on the lips. “Hello dear, our littlest princess is in need of a diaper change.” Meg nods and scoops Hannah into her arms as Balthazar turns back to the squealing children and galivants off.

Hannah claps wildly before her eyes fall on Cas and she holds out her hands toward him.

“Looks like she wants you,” Meg says. “Would Uncle Cas be interested in changing her diaper?” Castiel nods and takes Hannah into his arms, blowing a raspberry against her cheek.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he tells Dean, kissing him lightly. Meg departs to straighten up around the refreshments, so Dean is left on his own. He glances around the backyard and the small groups of people chatting as the kids scramble between them. As expected, he doesn’t know anyone. He spies a cooler near the patio table and wanders over to it. He grabs a soda from the ice and settles into a plastic chair. Balthazar stumbles over to him, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve.

“I’m getting too old for that,” he mutters. He reaches out and shakes Dean’s hand. “Dean, wonderful to see you again. Glad you came.” Dean shrugs.

“Well, you know, Cas mentioned a Princess Party and there was no way I was going to miss it,” he replies.

“As you shouldn’t have,” Balthazar supplies. “Where is Cas anyway?” Dean throws a thumb toward the house.

”Inside changing Hannah.” He looks around the backyard, finally taking in the scope of the decorations. “So Cas said this… was all your doing?” Dean asks. There are banners of flags strung across the yard, a purple castle moonwalk, and, most impressive of all, a perfectly constructed miniature Iron Throne (painted purple, of course). Balthazar looks around and nods.

“Yes, a bit over the top, I know,” he admits. “Cecily said she wanted a Princess Sofia birthday and I delivered.”

“You’ve got a knack for princess parties?” Dean jokes. Balthazar pulls a face and shrugs.

“Why? Are you interested in one for your birthday?” He replies with a cheeky grin. Dean feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see Cas at his side. Hannah bounces and flails in his arms, and he tries in vain to hold onto her.

“I’m afraid she’s been like that all day,” Balthazar offers. “She finally learned to run, and she doesn’t want to stop.” Cas places his niece on the ground and Hannah is off like a shot, happily charging across the grass.

“There she goes,” Balthazar says, jogging after her. Cas goes to the cooler and grabs out a soda for himself, settling into the chair next to Dean.

“So how many of these people do you know?” Dean asks quietly. Cas glances around the crowd.

“Well, let’s see… I think those two are their next door neighbors, that guy works with Balthazar, I believe… Oh, that’s Meg’s sister, Ruby.” Dean looks where Cas is pointing to a petite, dark-haired woman who bears a passing resemblance to Meg. Dean is about to ask another question, when they both catch sight of Cecily running toward them, flouncy princess dress flowing behind her..

“Uncle Cas!” She laughs, throwing her arms around his leg. Cas stumbles for a second, before gaining his balance and placing a hand on the back of her head.

“Hello Cecily,” he says. “Happy birthday.” She looks up at him and grins.

“I’m three!” she announces with a giggle, holding up four fingers. Dean bites back a laugh as Cas demonstrates the correct amount of fingers.

“Yes, you are,” Cas kneels down to her level. “You remember Mr. Dean, right?’ Cecily stares up at him with wide eyes and nods. Dean waves lightly back at her.

“You’re pretty,” she declares. “Like Rapunzel.” Dean shakes his head and opens his mouth, ready to disagree with her assessment. She grabs Dean’s hand with a surprising amount of force and begins dragging him away.

“C’mon, let’s go play in my Castle,” she says. Dean looks at Cas with pleading eyes, but only gets an amused grin in return. Meg sidles up to him as they watch Dean get pulled across the lawn.

“Castle?” Cas asks, confused. “When did she get a castle?”

“That was Ruby’s gift,” Meg answers. Cas cranes his neck to see the large plastic Castle in the far corner of the yard. His shoulders slump in defeat.

“Dammit,” he mutters.

“Better luck at Christmas Cas,” Meg says, patting his arm warmly.

 

* * *

 

The afternoon passes easily. Cas manages to save Dean from Cecily’s fingernail painting, but not before grabbing a couple photos of him in a tiara-and-princess-cape makeover ( _“Don’t worry Dean, we’ve all been there. Cecily is impossible to say no to.”_ ). They give Meg and Balthazar a break in entertaining the kids, volunteering piggy back rides until they are both gasping in exhaustion.

They are taking a breather, chugging down bottles of water, before Cecily commandeers them once more. A shadow falls over them, and Cas and Dean looks up to see Ruby hovering over them.

“So, you’re Dean,” Ruby coos. She extends her hand in his direction. “Meg and Bal have told me so much about you.”

“Uh, really?” Dean asks, shaking her hand warily.

“Yeah, I mean after everything that Bartholomew guy put our dear little Castiel through, I’m surprised he even considered going gay again.” Cas flinched at the mention of Bartholomew's name. He could see that Dean caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and his shoulders tense in response. Cas clears his throat awkwardly and pipes up.

“I’ve told you,” Cas interrupts, “I’m pansexual. Gender makes no difference to me.” Ruby glances at him and frowns in confusion.

“You were dating women for awhile though, right?” She asks. Castiel bites the inside of his cheek; He’s going to have a discussion with Meg about what she should and should not share with her sister.

“Yes,” Cas admits. Ruby looks up at Dean with a grin.

“And you two are dating now?” Cas and Dean both nod.

“So… you’re like… Gay again?” Ruby asks. Cas doesn’t know if she’s fucking with him, or just obtuse. He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“Y’know what? Yeah, sure. My membership card was renewed last week.” Castiel snaps sarcastically.

“What?” Ruby’s brow furrows deeply. She shakes her head dismissively after a moment and turns back to Dean. “Anyway, I can see that you are taken, but still... you’re pretty cute. You gotta brother?” Dean’s eyes widen comically.

Thankfully, Meg chooses that moment to swoop in and rescue Cas and Dean from her sister, claiming she needs assistance in the kitchen. As soon as they walk away, Dean turns to Cas, his jaw hanging open.

“Oh my fucking God! Is she for real?” He gapes. Cas snorts and covers his mouth to keep from cackling. “There is _no way_ I’d let her near Sammy... even if he was single.”

“I should’ve warned you,” Cas says. “Between the two of them, Ruby is the flighty one.” Dean turns his head and watches the two women walk into the house, Ruby chattering into Meg’s ear.

“Tell me again how you’re not winning favorite relative over that?” Dean asks.

“Because Ruby is on Cecily’s level,” Cas explains. “Plus, she can spoil the girls rotten, and then fly back to California without ever seeing the consequences.” Dean nods and chugs the rest of his water bottle just as a small group approaches.

“I think we’re on Cas,” he mumbles. Cas drains the rest of his water and follows Dean to meet the kids.

 

* * *

 

The party winds down, and Cas and Dean help Balthazar pick up around the back yard. Most of the kids have already left with parents in tow. Those who haven’t are inside, gathered around the castle dollhouse, oohing and ahhing at everything ( _“Who wins Uncle of the Year?” Dean murmurs against Cas’ cheek with a kiss after Cecily threw off the paper, squealing for joy. “This guy!”_ )

The guys are chatting as they work, when Meg emerges from the backdoor.

“Um, Bal?” She asks. “Did you invite your mother to the party?”

“I sent her an invitation, yes,” Balthazar replies without looking up. “Didn’t expect her to come, but I felt it was polite.”

“Uh-huh,” Megs says, planting a hand on her hip. “Well, she’s here.” All three mens’ heads shoot up in surprise. Dean glances at Cas, noticing the mixture of confusion, irritation and anxiety on his face.

“Is she?” Balthazar responds. He drops his trash bag and follows Meg into the house. Cas and Dean follow suit.

Once inside, Dean’s eyes fall on a spindly blonde woman in her mid-fifties. She looks up and smiles at the three of them, but the smile doesn’t seem to reach her eyes.

“Balthazar,” the woman says, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “So wonderful to see you.”

“Likewise, Mother,” he replies stiffly. The woman turns toward Cas.

“Castiel, sweetie,” she reaches out in a hug for him as well. “Look at you! That hair, it’s… everywhere!” She sees Dean and turns to him.

“Now do I know you?” She asks. “I don’t think I’ve met you before. Are you a friend of Balthazar and Meg’s.”

“This is Dean Mother,” Castiel hurries to step forward and introduce him.

“Ah, Dean,” she says, shaking his hand. “I’m guessing that you are a friend of Castiel’s, then?” Dean opens his mouth to answer, when Cas slips a hand into his.

“We’re together, Mother,” he says, giving Dean’s hand a squeeze. Amelia’s gaze doesn’t waiver from Cas, not even flicking down to where their hands are clasped. Her expression is neither happy or upset; it’s just blank.

“Ok,” Amelia says as she looks around the room. “We’re doing that again, I suppose. Now… Where is my Cecily?” She walks off without another word, going to look for the girls. Cas’ anxious expression drops as he watches his mother walk away.

Dean glances at Meg for some sort of explanation, but she just shakes her head in warning. Balthazar is the first to break the silence.

“Well, now that all of the kiddies are occupied and inside, I know I could go for a beer.” Meg, Cas and Dean all hum in agreement.

 

* * *

 

By the time they finally leave, it’s clear to Dean that something is wrong with Cas. He remained eerily silent for the rest of their stay, and had practically pulled Dean out the front door by his sleeve. Something about seeing his mother really sent him off balance.

“Hey,” Dean says softly as they drive toward Cas’ house. “You ok?” Cas stares straight ahead, mouth a firm line, and shakes his head stiffly.

“I just can’t believe her,” he mumbles under his breath. Dean reaches over and places a comforting hand on his thigh.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Dean says. “I mean, yeah, maybe she didn’t seem super supportive, but it’s not like she called you an abomination or anything… That’s kind of a win, right?” Cas snorts derisively and let’s his shoulders drop.

“You don’t get it,” he mumbles sadly. “She… just doesn’t care, ok?” Dean frowns, more confused than before by why he is upset. Cas scrubs his hands down his face.

“Look, when I met your Dad, it was pretty clear he wasn’t happy with me,” Cas starts. “He was angry and… and insulting. He straight-up said he didn’t like that you were with a guy.” Dean turns his attention back to the road, embarrassed by the memory of his Dad’s behavior.

“But when it comes right down to it, he loves you,” Cas continues. “He gives a shit about you, wants you to be happy, and he saw that you were happy, and… and I was the cause. He traded your comfort for his own.” Cas gestures wildly. Dean reaches out and calmly takes one of the flailing hands in his own.

“Your dad actually cares about you,” Cas says sadly. “I haven’t seen my mom in two years. I introduce her to my partner, and her reaction is the same as if I’d told her I’d gotten my dog neutered.”

“You don’t have a dog,” Dean points out playfully. Cas responds with a small grin.

“Cat then,” he says. He lets his head fall back over the seat. “I don’t know… I’m overreacting, I know. Other people have it a whole lot worse than me and-”

“Hey, hey, stop that,” Dean says gently. “You can feel however you want. Your mother acted like an asshole to you. You’re allowed to be upset by it.” Cas smiles and Dean squeezes his hand.

“She used to not be like this,” he admits, “but when my dad died… I don’t know. I guess she figured Balthazar and I were adults and she didn’t owe us anything.” Dean looks at Castiel quizzically.

“Whether or not she owes you anything, that’s no excuse to cut off contact with your kids?” Dean gripes, “and for God’s sake you were what? 19? That’s still very much a kid.” The Impala pulls into Cas’ driveway. As soon as Cas steps out of the car, Dean pulls him into his arms.

“For the record,” Dean says, slinging his arms lazily around Cas’s middle, “my mom fucking loves you. My whole family does. Even my dad, in his own way.”

“Dean...” Cas starts.

“No, I’m going to say this,” Dean cuts him off. “You have so many people who care about you: Balthazar, Meg, the girls, Sam, Jess, Charlie…  We’re your family. Even if your mom doesn’t want to be.” Cas smiles up at Dean and moves forward, kissing him softly.

“Thank  you,” he mumbles. “Let’s get inside.” Cas steps out of Dean’s hold and pulls him by the hand into the house.

 

* * *

 

The morning of the school board meeting, Dean wakes up still curled up against Cas. In the two weeks following his suspension, he’d taken a habit of spending most nights at Cas’ place. Why not, right? It’s not like he has to be up early for class.

He can feel his anxiety over the upcoming meeting buzzing beneath his skin. Dean breathes in deeply against Cas’ neck, taking in the rich scent of his skin, trying to calm himself. Dean’s morning wood aches in his sleep shorts, and he rubs up against Cas’ backside.

“Dean… What are you doing?” Cas asks sleepily.

“Nothin’,” Dean murmurs, mouthing wet kisses of the knob of Cas’ spine. He moves against Cas again, reveling in the pleased humm he gets in response.

“I’m not even awake yet,” Cas whines. Dean chuckles to himself over how much of a morning person Cas _isn’t_.

“Well, I can help with that,” Dean says. He snakes his hand around Cas’ waist and slips it into into his boxers. Cas hisses softly as Dean wraps a hand around his cock and starts stroking  him to fullness. Dean grinds against him in time with his fist.

“Fuck Dean!” Cas sighs as he clutches at Dean’s arm. Dean sucks lightly on Cas’s neck, earning a groan of irritation from the other man.

“Do you really want me showing up to the board meeting today covered in hickey’s?” He murmurs. Dean cups the side of Cas’ head with his free hand and pulls it around, capturing his mouth in a kiss. Cas’ pushes back against Dean cock, causing him to moan into Cas’ mouth.

“Fuck Cas,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against his shoulder. “I’m so close. Want to fuck you!” Cas pulls away from Dean and scrambles over the bed to the nightstand. He grabs out the bottle of lube and tosses it to Dean.

Wordlessly, Dean slicks up his hand as Castiel sprawls himself face down on the bed.

“Please Dean,” he begs. Dean crawls forward, sprawling himself over Cas’ back. He tugs Cas’ boxers down over his hips and tosses them to the ground. He draws a finger slowly along the cleft of Cas’ ass, circling his hole before pressing in. Cas gasps softly at the first breech. Dean is eager to be inside of him, but he holds back his enthusiasm as he works Cas open. He adds a second finger and Cas moans, pressing back against Dean’s hand.

“Too slow,” he whimpers. Dean doesn’t answer, only shakes his head as he moves his hand in an out of Cas, scissoring him open.

By the time he adds a third finger, Cas is writhing pitifully. He’s on his knees with his face pressed into the bed and begging for Dean. Dean plants kisses along Cas’ shoulder blades, muttering words of encouragement. He crooks a finger against the bundle of nerves inside of him as Castiel cries out loudly and unexpectedly, his orgasm ripping through him. Thick ropes of come coat the sheet beneath him.

Dean pulls out his hand as Cas collapses onto the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Oh my fucking God,” he mutters. He lifts his head, gazing at Dean with a fucked-out smile. Dean leans down and kisses him.

“That really is the magic button,” he laughs. Cas snorts and pushes himself to his knees.

“I think it’s your turn,” he says coyly. Dean grins and grabs the bottle of lube once more, kicking his shorts to the end of the bed. He coats himself and pulls Cas back by the hips, lining himself up with Cas’ entrance. As he presses himself inside, he can feel Cas shiver beneath his fingers. As warm and tight as Cas is, and as aroused as Dean is, he knows he’s not going to last long.

“Fuck me Dean,” Cas begs. Dean takes the cue and begins thrusting into him. He grips Cas’ hips tightly and pulls him in, meeting every impact. Cas’ upper body drops against the bed in exhaustion as Dean drives into him. Dean presses his hips down flat, draping himself over Cas as he fucks him.

Dean’s vision blurs as he comes harder than he has in memory. He presses his forehead against Cas’ temple, riding out the waves of his orgasm. They lie in sated silence for a long while, until Dean finally speaks.

“Better than Folgers, amiright?” Cas laughs and flails an arm behind him, attempting to slap Dean playfully. Dean carefully slips out of Cas and rolls onto the bed next to him.

“I’m going to need to wash the sheets,” Cas says, his voice muffled by his pillow. Dean nods and turns his head to Cas.

“Yeah, probably,” he says. Dean reaches out a hand and touches Cas’ face, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. “I like waking up with you.” Cas smiles against his pillow.

“Same,” he says. Dean leans forward and kisses Cas. Cas’ expression goes serious and he takes Dean’s hand.

“You doing ok?” he asks. “You ready for today?” Dean thinks about it for a moment. He thinks he’s ready for today’s meeting; It’s not like he has a whole lot of other options.

“Yeah,” he answers, rather uneasily. “As ready as I can be, I suppose. At this point, it’s out of my hands. Everything is going to depend on Sam and Roman and the School Board. I’m just a spectator.” Cas gives Dean a soft smile and nuzzles closer.

“If you need anything, I’m here,” he offers. Dean plants a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

“C’mon,” Dean rolls from the bed, energized from morning nookie. “I’m feeling like omelets for breakfast.” He plucks up his sleep shorts from amongst the bunched-up duvet and sheets. Castiel grins and pushes himself up on his elbows.

“Sounds good to me,” he says. “Just give me a minute to clean up.” Dean nods and walks, naked, from the bedroom into the kitchen. Cas pulls up the corner of his soiled bed sheet and wipes off his stomach. He sits in his empty bedroom smiling to himself as a thought occurs to him.

“Hey Dean,” Cas calls out, grabbing his boxers from the ground.

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice echoes from the living room. Cas walks down the hall toward the kitchen. He leans against the doorframe.

“You want to move in together?” His casual demeanor betrays his anxiety. Dean glances up from the fridge, arms loaded with ingredients.

“Seriously?” He asks. Cas nods and shrugs slightly.

“Yeah, why not?” Cas offers just as an awful thought occurs to him. His brow furrows deeply in worry. “I mean… unless you don’t want to, I mean I totally understand if you don’t. We’ve only just been going out a short while and…” Cas continues to babble, glancing down at the floor. Dean drops his armful on the counter and rushes toward Cas. He cups his face in his hands and cuts him off with a fervent kiss.

“I would love to Cas,” Dean mumbles as he pulls back fro the kiss after a moment. “Yes, I want to move in together.” Cas’ whole body relaxes and his face lights up in surprised disbelief.

“Really? You’re sure?” He asks.

“Yeah,” Dean nods. He releases Cas and turns back to the counter. “Let’s get breakfast ready and we can talk more about it as we eat.” Dean pulls a small bowl from Cas’ cabinet and begins cracking eggs. Cas smiles to himself and takes a couple steps forward, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist. Dean places a hand over his, lacing his fingers between Cas’ affectionately.

 

* * *

 

Dean and Cas slowly approach the School Board offices. Dean swallows hard and gives Cas’ hand a squeeze, as if trying to confirm he’s still there at his side.

“How are you doing?” Cas asks, squeezing back.

“Me? Great, fine, awesome,” Dean replies. “My career is on the line, but, you know… I’m cool.” He tries to give Cas a confident smile, but he comes off looking constipated instead. Cas leans over and kisses his cheek lightly.

“It’s going to be ok,” Cas assures. “Sam says your case is really strong.” As soon as he says his name, Dean catches sight of Sam in their direction.

“Dean, Cas, hey!” He calls out, trudging toward them. “You guys made it. C’mon, everyone else is already inside. They’re just about to convene.” They hurry after Sam into the building. As soon as they enter, Jess, Charlie and Dorothy swarm on Dean with hugs and words of encouragement.

“Bring that motherfucker down,” Charlie whispers in his ear. Dean feels a tug on his shirt sleeve and sees Sam pulling him towards the hearing room. It’s a closed session and Cas and the girls will need to wait outside. Cas kisses Dean briefly before he turns and follows Sam into the room.

Dean takes in his surroundings. It’s just a simple meeting room, with several chairs arranged around a long conference table. Dean expected the session to be like something out of “Law & Order”, with the “All-rise” and all that, but it’s not nearly as formal as expected. A few board members have already arrived and are seated at the table. Sam and Dean pull up chairs on the opposite side.

The door opens abruptly and Dean catches sight of Dick Roman out of the corner of his eye. Dean averts his gaze, glad to have Sam as a buffer (both literally and metaphorically) between him and the man.

A larger, curly-haired, African American woman enters the room in a huff.

“Alright, Let’s bring this session to order,” she says, not even to her seat yet. “It’s Friday afternoon, I know we’re all curious as to why _Mr. Roman_ felt it was necessary to convene the board for an emergency session.” From the sound of her voice, it’s clear that this woman is already familiar with Dick Roman. She pulls out a pair of reading glasses.

“Let us begin: My name is Missouri Moseley, Duval County School Board Vice Chairperson. We have been called to order today regarding a Mr. Dean Winchester.” She looks up from her notes and glances between Dean and Sam, “Which one of you is that?” Dean raises his hand tentatively.

“Ok, then.” Ms. Mosley looks back down to her notes, “Mr. Roman, I see recommendation of the suspension but no record of any grievances or warnings against Mr. Winchester…” She raises an eyebrow in Roman’s direction, “Was this Mr. Winchester’s first offense?”

“Uh, yes, your honor,” Roman answers.

“I am not a judge, you will refer to me as Ms. Moseley,” she says flatly.

“Of course, Ms. Moseley,” Roman replies, “Dean… ah, Mr. Winchester only has one issue of record but-”

“You cited something in here… ‘Bad Light’?” A stocky, balding man with a hint of an accent  cuts him off mid sentence, “What exactly is that?” Roman clears his throat uncomfortably before he speaks.

“It means he made the school look unfavorable in some public way,” Roman finally says, cowering some under the man’s dark gaze. “Mr. Winchester was part of a local news broadcast about the school-”

“Mr. Roman, in my 30-plus years in this school system, I have never once heard that term,” Ms. Moseley says impatiently. “Can you please tell me where you found this in our school district rules and regulations.” Roman’s eyes go wide.

“Well, uh… I mean, I don’t-” Roman stutters out. Dean has to bite the inside of his lip to keep from grinning.

“What exactly did Mr. Winchester _do_?” A bespectacled man asks, raising a bushy gray eyebrow. Roman clears his throat once more and gathers his bearings.

“He took part in a news broadcast that was accusatory and inflammatory toward the school,” he answers. Ms. Moseley turns her head to Sam and Dean.

“Is this true?” She asks. Dean glances at Sam for a second, receiving the barest of nods.

“Not exactly,” Dean says, looking at Ms. Mosley. “There was a news broadcast regarding the school’s disallowance of a Gay Straight Alliance club for the students. I was going to be one of the staff sponsors and my name was mentioned in connection with it.”

“Were there any other staff involved in the broadcast?” the British man asks ( _F. Crowley_ according to the nameplate in front of him.)

“A Ms. Charlie Bradbury,” Sam pipes up. He hands several small packets of papers in the board’s direction. “This is the transcription of the entire broadcast. The part in question is highlighted.” Ms. Moseley picks up the packet and looks through it.

“And you are…?” She asks, looking up over her glasses.

“Uh… I’m Sam Winchester. I’m Mr. Winchester’s attorney.” Sam answers.

“Am I to assume there is some relation?” Mr. Crowley asks with a sarcastic grin.

“He’s my brother,” Dean answers.

“Is this Ms. Bradbury the teacher whose contract wasn’t extended?” Ms. Moseley asks, redirecting the questioning back on track. Sam and Dean both nod. The room is quiet as the members of the board read over the news broadcast transcript. There is hushed discussion amongst them. Sam leans over to Dean.

“Roman is floundering,” he hisses under his breath. Dean nods; you don’t need a Stanford law degree to see that Roman is at odds with the board. Dean wonders how badly he was bluffing when he said the board members would agree with whatever decision he made.

Ms. Moseley clears her throat and Sam, Dean and Roman all come to attention.

“The board would like to ask for everyone to exit the room so that we may discuss matters further,” she says. “We will reconvene in 15 minutes.” Dean rises from his chair first, eager to get out of the room and avoid a confrontation with Roman.

As soon as he exits into the hallway, Cas, Charlie, Dorothy and Jess all stand from the benches they’re sitting on.

“That was quick,” Charlie blurts out in surprise. Dean shakes his head.

“We’re not done,” he mutters, “The board is in discussion right now.” Dean sinks into the vacated bench, all of the stress of the day absolutely draining him. Cas sits down next to him and takes his hand.

“How’s it going in there?” he asks carefully.

“I’m pretty sure that they hate Roman,” Dean admits, with a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean anything. They might side with him to just avoid showing bias.” Cas nods and strokes a thumb over the back of Dean’s hand in comfort.

“No matter what happens,” Sam says, “We can always submit an appeal. We’ll have the whole summer to fight this, bring the teacher’s union in on the matter-”

“Sam!” Dean states harshly. He doesn’t want to think about what may happen if things go south. Sam’s speculations and plans aren’t helping his mood or stress levels. Dean takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“Please…” He says, gentler than before. “Let’s just cross that bridge when we come to it.”  Sam nods in understanding. They chat absently as they wait, trying to stay on innocuous topics like the weather and recent movies they’ve seen.

The door opens abruptly and the gray-haired gentleman pokes his head out. Everyone turns and faces him.

“We’re ready,” he says. Dean and Cas both rise to their feet and Cas gives Dean’s hand one last squeeze before he and Sam move to go inside the meeting room. They retake their seats. Dean can see Roman glaring at him out of the corner of his eye, but doesn’t respond.

“Alright, Gentlemen,” Ms. Moseley says, calling the meeting to order, “after reading the transcript of the report and going over the details of the case, the board has found that the circumstances of Mr. Winchester suspension are suspect and go against normal protocol as detailed by Duval County Public School.” It takes Dean a second to process this information . Once he does, he can’t control the smile that splits across his face.

“Uh, Ms. Moseley, I feel this is an err in the judgement of the board,” Roman rushes out. Ms. Moseley raises a hand, silencing him.

“We will get to you in a second, Mr. Roman,” she says curtly. “The school board has decided to lift Mr. Winchester’s suspension and reimburse all pay lost during that time. You may return to your duties Monday morning.” Dean feels a tug at his arm.

“Say thank you,” Sam mumbles in his ear. Dean realizes he has been staring dumbly the entire time.

“Uh, thank you,” he stammers out. “Thank you Ms. Mosely… all the board members.” Ms. Moseley gives him a small smile.

“I would like to address one further issue, though,” she says, glancing down at her notes. “On the matter of the proposed Gay Straight Alliance for the students. While public opinion may affect the matter, ultimately the school is within its rights to disallow any student club or organization it does not feel fits inline with its mission.” Dean and Sam’s faces fall in unison as the realization set is; the GSA is dead in the water. Dean can see Roman’s relieved and triumphant expression and he has to look away.

“However, it was brought to the board’s attention that Carver Edlund has _two_ political student organizations?” She eyes Roman deliberately. “Is this true?” Roman’s smile drops.

“Uh, yes it is,” he answers. Ms Moseley raises an eyebrow and exhales heavily.

“Mr. Roman, you are aware of the fact that all politically-aligned student organizations except for student government are in violation of Duval County Public Schools rules and regulations?” Ms. Moseley says, a hint of irritation in her voice. Roman’s eyes go wide.

“Well… uh, they aren’t _really_ political organizations…” he stammers.

“Mr. Roman, you have been counseled on this matter before in previous attempts. I cannot imagine how I could’ve made myself clearer on the matter the last time it was brought to my attention.” Roman’s mouth claps open and shut randomly as he searches for word.

“Ms. Moseley,” He says obsequiously, “if we just discuss this matter in private-”

“We shall discuss it in two weeks when we meet again to discuss punitive measures against you,” she says dismissively.

“Punitive measures? I don’t-”

“This session is adjourned. Thank you gentlemen.” The entire board rises from their seats in one smooth move and quickly exits the room. Roman sits at his place, completely dumbstruck by the unexpected turn. Dean looks at Sam, face pinched in confusion.

“What the Hell just happened?” He asks.

“I think… we lost the battle but won the war,” Sam replies, a slow smiles spreading across his face. Roman quickly escape the conference room, throwing open the door. Jessica peaks in the doorway a moment later and Sam gestures her to come in. The rest of their group follows behind her.

“So what happened?” Charlie asks, making a beeline for Dean. He runs a hand through his hair as he tries to figure out how to answer the question.

“Uh, well, I’m not suspended anymore,” Charlie whoops loudly and throws her arms around Dean, Jess and Dorothy say their congratulations, and Cas takes Dean’s hand and kisses him on the cheek.

“That’s wonderful, Dean,” he offers. Dean nods and continues.

“We didn’t get the GSA,” he admits, instantly quieting the group. “Apparently the school is within it’s rights to say no to a student organization.” Everyone glances at each other sadly.

“So that bastard won!?” Dorothy growls.

“Actually, he’s in a helluva lot of trouble, it sounds like,” Sam laughs. “Apparently, he ignored some restriction regarding politically-based student organizations. Doesn’t sound like the board is very happy about it, honestly.” Dorothy’s face softens and she nods.

“Still… sucks about the GSA,” Charlie mutters. “I mean, I’m super happy for you Dean, but, I don’t know… It kind of feels like nothing has changed. We’re right back where we began. Only now I’m going to be unemployed.” Dean smiles sadly and places an arm around her shoulder.

“Hey, you’re an amazing teacher. You will find another position in no time and probably for more money.” Charlie grins up at Dean. “And maybe we’ll get lucky and Roman will get his ass fired,” Dean offers, earning an amused snort from her.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys,” Jess pipes up, “but I’m starving! Why don’t we grab some Taco Lu and we can discuss everything over dinner?” Everyone nods and starts walking toward the door. Dean feels Cas grab hold of his hand and pull him back.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Cas asks. Dean wants to offer a generic “fine,” but he sees no reason to be obtuse with Cas.

“I’m pissed,” he admits.“I’m relieved. I’m tired. I’m stressed. I’m… “ he trails off. Cas takes both of Dean’s hands and leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. Dean lets his eyes fall shut and breathes deeply, tightening his grip on Cas’ fingers.

“I get it,” Cas whispers. “Good news, but it’s still kind of bad.” Dean nods.

“I don’t know, all this mess. For it to turn out like this… It’s just kind of bittersweet, y’know?” Cas nods and kisses Dean lightly.

“I know,” he says. He jerks his head toward the doorway. “C’mon, I think we both need to shake this day off.” Dean snorts.

“Sure thing, Taylor Swift,” He mutters.

“Oh, you fucking love that song!” Cas argues, pulling Dean toward the exit.  “Don’t even lie!”

  
  
  
  



	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [ANobleCompanion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion) for her beta assistance.

Dean speeds down the highway, the needle on the Impala's speedometer ticking towards 80.

“Jesus, Dean. Slow down!” Cas orders, white knuckling the door handles.

“We can’t be late,” Dean grumbles.

“Why not?” Cas asks, glaring at Dean in annoyance ..

“Because Sam and I have this standing agreement that if you’re late, you buy the first round.” Dean admits, perhaps a bit reluctantly. Cas snorts in exasperation.

“And so you want to kill us just to save $20?” He gives Dean a pointed look. He smirks at Cas for a moment then turns his attention back to the road.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he mutters. Cas shakes his head

“Principles won’t matter if we’re maimed in a traffic accident,” Cas says through gritted teeth as they swerve around a Buick doing 45. Dean snorts and moves over a lane as they approach the turn off.

“C’mon Cas… Have a little faith.” Dean grins slyly at him and Cas can’t but help smile in spite of himself.  

They pull into the steakhouse parking lot, already packed with cars. Dean grumbles under his breath, leaning forward over the wheel as he searches for a spot.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters. “Did everyone and their mother come out tonight?” They circle the lot for a good five minutes before finally squeezing into a space, narrowly beating out a little old lady who not-so-subtly flips them the bird.

“Same to you, Grandma!” Dean yells after her. Cas’ tugs on his sleeve.

“Dean, c’mon,” he mumbles, “People are staring.” Dean glares after the car, but follows Cas without argument. The entryway is packed with people. Dean pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Sam.

“I don’t see them anywhere,” Cas says, craning his neck to see over the crowd. Dean’s phone buzzes and a message from Sam appears on the screen.

 _We’re at a table near the back_ , it reads. Dean takes Cas’ hand and leads him through the crowd of waiting people. They weave amongst the tables until they spot Sam and Jess in the lowlight of the dining room.

“Glad you could join us,” Sam says with a triumphant grin, “Jess and I already ordered our drinks. Thanks for that by the way.”

“Yeah, whatever Sam,” Dean replies, settling into his chair. The waitress comes by, setting Sam and Jess’ drinks down in front of them as well as glasses of water for everyone.  She turns to Cas and Dean, asking for their drink orders.

“I’d like a Bud. Cas?”

“Corona, please,” The waitress nods and scampers off.

“So, how’s it going guys?” Jess asks, taking a sip of her cocktail. “Enjoying the summer so far?” Dean huffs a laugh and rubs at the tender red skin of his neck. He thinks he may have underestimated how powerful the sun was at 8:30 in the morning.

“Yeah, beach was fun until I got roasted,” he answers.

“You gotta be careful about that Dean,” Sam advises. “You’re especially susceptible to sun damage with your freckles-”

“Yeah, I get it, Dr. Oz,” Dean snaps.

“How’s the trial going?” Jess asks. Dean and Cas look at each other oddly.

“It’s not,” Cas sighs, “There was another delay.”

“Oh no,” Jess groans in sympathy.

“It’s not a bad thing, though,” Dean is quick to add. “They’re flushing out some possible victims from his time in New York. The prosecution is trying to make this case as big as possible.”

“Is he trying to plead out?” Sam asks. “Avoid jail time?” Cas shrugs and shakes his head.

“We don’t know,” he admits sadly. “Everyone is being so tight lipped about it. Either this is very good or very bad. Honestly, I’m just happy to have him out of the station. Things are 1000 times better without him around.”

Sam and Jess nod and turn their attention to their menus. The waitress stops by the table and drops off Cas and Dean’s beer. Dean take his bottle and lifts it above the table.

“Cheers, guys,” he says. Cas, Sam and Jess all lift their drinks and clink them together. Something catches Dean’s eye amongst the glasses. As they set their drinks down, he reaches out and takes hold of Jess’ left hand.

“What is this?” Dean asks in disbelief, holding up her hand where a ring… no, a _Rock_ sits on her finger. Jess pulls her hand away, a shy, gleeful smile crossing her face. Dean looks at Sam, who is wearing a similar proud grin.

“Sammy? Really? Are you serious?” Sam gives a small nod and Dean is instantly out of his seat, wrapping his brother in a tight hug.

“About time, man!” he gushes. “I was wondering when you were going to make an honest woman out of her. “ Dean pulls back abruptly, giving Sam a serious look. “She’s not pregnant is she?”

“Dude, no!” Sam grouses, sitting back down. Dean holds his hands up in a defensive gesture.

“I was just asking, Sam,” he replies. “You never know.”

“When did you pop the question?” Cas asks. Sam opens his mouth to answer but Jess beats him to it,

“Last night,” She gushes. “He had all the kids in the pediatric ward sing ‘You are My sunshine’ while he got down on one knee and rushed through the question.”

“I was nervous! Asking the most beautiful girl in the world to marry me, I think I have a right,” Sam insists. “Besides, you did say yes and that’s all that matters.” He leans over and kisses her sweetly.

“Congratulations you two,” Cas says, lifting his glass this time. They all offer one more toast and Dean snags their waitress, ordering a bottle of champagne to celebrate.

“So have you told Mom or Dad yet?” Dean asks, glancing through the menu.

“Yeah, told mom first,” Sam answers. “I didn’t want to risk her figuring it out telepathically or something like that. I think her and Dad seem pretty happy about it.”

“Well, of course they are,” Dean announces. “As I said, you have the best lady in the world.”

“Hey!” Cas snaps in offense.

“I said ‘best lady,’” Dean clarifies, taking Cas’s hand in his with a squeeze. “You’re the best guy.” Cas smiles and squeeze Dean’s hand back.

“Are all y’all ready to order?” The waitress asks, readying her pad and pen as she approaches the table.

“I think so,” Dean answers, glancing to the rest of the table.

* * *

 

The night was wonderful and dinner was amazing. Dean was surprised, too, by Sam’s choice of a steakhouse, until he realized it was actually Jess’ choice ( _“I don’t know why, but I’ve just really been craving steak recently.”  “... Are you sure you’re not pregnant Ow! Quit it, Sam!”_ ).

Dean and Cas, both give them tight hugs in the parking lot before slipping back into the Impala.

“That was nice,” Cas says sleepily. Dean hums in agreement. Cas looks over to him, watching Dean’s brow furrow deeply as he drives.

“Something wrong?” Cas asks. Dean’s mouth turns downward and he shrugs.

“I don’t know,” Dean mumbles. “It’s really weird to think of Sam getting married. I mean, in my head I still see him as a geeky little kid, and now…” Dean trails off and rubs a hand across his forehead.

“Now he’s an adult with a job and a fiance,” Dean shakes his head in disbelief. “And she has a job-”

“I don’t think I’m following,” Cas says. “Are you upset that Sam grew up or that he’s getting married before you?” Dean stares out into the distance for a moment and considers this question.

“Neither, both… I don’t know,” he mutters. “I don’t know, I’m just thinking outloud.” Cas considers Dean before scooting across the bench seat and settling under Dean’s arm.

“You know, just because Sam is getting married before you doesn’t mean you don’t have your shit any more or less together than he does.”

“Yeah, I know. ‘ _We’re in different places_.’” Dean puts on a mocking voice at the end.

“Well of course you’re in different places. You’re different people!” Cas states firmly. “You are always going to to have different challenges to face, but please Dean, don’t act like it’s a competition between you two.” Dean doesn’t say anything, but his expression does soften and he nods.

“Thanks Cas,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of Cas’ head. They drive in silence for a few minutes before Cas speaks up again.

“Just for the record,” he says softly “I would totally marry you in a heartbeat.” Dean’s heart swells and he has to bite back a megawatt grin.

“Same,” Dean replies, as calmly as he can manage. He changes lanes and takes the exit toward Riverside and Cas’ house. He feels Cas’ head weigh heavy against his shoulder and he wonders if this counts as Cas proposing.

* * *

 

Cas pushes aside a stack of hangers in Dean’s closet and frowns.

“You know, for a guy who live in Florida, you sure do own a lot of flannels,” Cas points out. Dean snorts and pokes his head into his closet.

“I don’t have _that_ many,” he argues. Cas raises an eyebrow in his direction, holding up a handful of hangers with a dozen different shirts hanging of of them.

“Dean, lumberjacks own less plaid,” He teases. Dean huffs a laugh and steps into the closet.

“Making fun of my wardrobe now, Cas?” he asks, gently lifting the hangers out of Cas’ hand and placing them back on the rail. He steps closer into Cas’ space, placing a tender had on his hip.

“Actually, I’m a bigger fan of you _out_ of your clothes,” Cas replies coyly with a light kiss to Dean’s lips.

“I think that can be arranged,” Dean murmurs, moving forward and deepening the kiss. He wraps his hand around Cas’ back and begins to tug at the edge of his tucked-in shirt. The buzzer for the door abruptly echos through the house.

“Fucking cockblocks,” Dean mutters, pulling back from the kiss. Cas giggles to himself.

“Can we really call them cockblocks if we invited them over?” He asks. Dean steps out of the closet and looks at the bedside clock.

“They are five minutes early,” He grouses, “We could’ve had a lot of fun in five minutes.” Cas shakes his head and follows Dean out of the closet.

“Not enough fun,” he says, pecking Dean on the cheek, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home tonight.” The buzzer rings again and Cas hurries from the bedroom to the front door. Dean smiles as he watches him leave, a warmth spreading from his center. He loves how Cas uses the word “home.” In a couple hours, they will be officially vacated from Dean’s apartment and anything not put into storage will be unloaded at Cas’ house. _Their_ house, Dean has to remind himself.

He walks out of the bedroom, hearing Charlie, Sam and Jess’ voices drifting from the living room.

“Do you even know how to drive a U-haul?” Sam asks.  

“There is nothing to it!” Charlie replies. “You think if it were that hard they’d just rent them to anyone who came in off the street.” Cas and Sam exchange worried glances.

“Why don’t you let me drive it?” Dean offers. Charlie turns and glares at Dean.

“What? You think because I’m a girl I can’t drive a moving van?” She snaps.

“No, but I’m pretty sure it’s because you’ve been driving Gremlins and Mini Coopers for over a decade.” Charlie is still giving Dean a hard look. He sighs in exasperation. “It’s a different beast entirely Charlie. Boss-level, get it?” Charlie’s expression softens slightly when Dean begins speaking her language, but she still looks disappointed.

“How much have you guys gotten packed so far?” Jess asks.

“Not too much,” Cas answers, “I was trying to navigate to forest of Dean’s flannels when you guys got here.” Jess laughs and rolls her eyes dramatically.

“Oh my God! Tell me about it,” she exclaims. “I think Sam might have stock in flannel company of something. Must be a Winchester family trait. I’m pretty sure they bleed plaid.” Cas chuckles in response. Sam wraps a hand around Jess’ waist.

“And you’re marrying into it,” he teases, kissing her neck. “Got to get you suited up.”

“Oh yeah, plaid wedding dress and all,” Dean adds. Jess snorts and slaps Sam playfully. She gives Dean a direct look.

“Over my dead body,” she threatens, pointing a finger in his direction.

“So how do we want to start this?” Charlie asks. On her left arm she wears rolls of packing tape like bangles while a stack on flat pack boxes are lodged under her right arm.

“Well, I guess Sam, Dean and I can start packing up the big stuff going into storage,” Cas offers. “You two want to start on things like the glasses and dishware and we’ll help you out in a few minutes?” Charlie and Jess nod. Charlie drops the boxes and tape in the middle of the living room floor and her and Jess start assembling them.

“Let’s do this!” Dean claps his hands and Cas and Sam follow him into the bedroom to start dismantling the bed.

* * *

 

With five people, much of the packing goes pretty fast, but it’s still hard work.

“Pizza… and beer… is not going to cut it, Dean,” Sam huffs, wiping at his brows with the back of his shirtsleeve as he tries to maneuver Dean’s surprisingly heavy coffee table down three floors.

“You already agreed,” Dean grunts, nearly missing a step. “Verbal contract, binding agreement and all that other lawyer bullshit.” Sam grins in spite of his annoyance and shakes his head.

“You really don’t ever listen when I talk about my job, do you?” He asks.

“All I hear is Charlie Brown’s teacher,” Dean admits. “Pivot, Sam! Piv-ot! Fucking Pivot!!” They move around the corner and Sam sets the table down at the bottom of the stairs. He wipes the sweat off of his face and catches his breath.

“You sure have a lot of stuff going into storage.” Sam points out. Dean settles down onto the bottom step and gives Sam an absent shrug.

“Yeah, so what?” He says, “Cas’ place is bigger than mine, but it’s still not big enough for two houses’ worth of furniture.”

“Why not just craiglist it all then?” Sam asks, leaning against the corner of the wall. Dean nods quickly.

“Oh, we will,” he assures, “but there are certain things that I can’t or don’t want to sell.”

“Such as?” Sam prods. Dean shrugs once more.

“I don’t know, Sammy,” he mutters, “I’ve got some tools, my TV… things like that.”

“I don’t understand Dean,” Sam says, “Why not just get rid of the stuff. You are crazy about Cas, you’re taking this huge step. Unless... you’re not sure…” Sam trails off, looking at Dean curiously.

“No, no, of course not,” Dean says vehemently, “Cas’ is it for me. It’s just… I hope that when we eventually get a bigger place-”

“When?” Sam repeats with a hint of disbelief.

“Yes, Sam. _When_ ,” Dean replies. “When we get a bigger place, we will have enough room.” Sam’s mouth twitched to the side as he listens.

“I mean, I’m not saying I’ll never sell some of that stuff,” Dean continues, “but I’d rather hang onto it for now.” Sam continues to watch Dean quietly for a minute before speaking.

“I don’t get it,” San says, “Why are you moving into Cas’ place instead of buying a house together right now? Save yourself  trip?” Dean looks up at his brother, brow deeply furrowed.

“Moving in together is one thing,” Dean answers, “but buying a house together? That’s a huge step. You’ve got paperwork and contracts and-”

“You said Cas is it for you, right?” Sam asks. Dean nods. “Why should this stop you?” Dean bites at his lip and stares at his folded hands thoughtfully. There is the thump of footsteps on the stairs and Cas turns the corner carrying two large boxes, one on top of the other.

“Jesus, Cas, you’re going to break your neck!” Dean gripes as he jumps to his feet, grabbing a box from Cas’ arms.

“Thanks, Dean,” Cas says. He smiles gratefully and Dean’s heart melts a little at the sight. He normally hates when Sam is right about something, but this time his advice might actually have some merit.

* * *

 

Everyone is sitting on the floor of Dean’s living room, eating pizza off of paper plates and using boxes as tables.

“Thank you all for helping us,” Dean says, wiping at the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

“Of course,” Charlie says, squeezing his arm. “You’d do the same thing for us.” Dean nods in agreement and takes a bite of his pizza.

“So, Jess,” Cas pipes up. “Do you guys have a date picked out yet?” Sam and Jess glance at each other and grin.

“We’re actually thinking about going to Vegas,” Jess admits. Everyone’s eyes go wide and Dean stops mid-bite.

“Yeah, Mom’s going to love that,” he mumbles sarcastically.

“Well, Mom’s not the one paying for it,” Sam counters. “Honestly, we just don’t want to make a huge deal out of the wedding.”

“Why go all the way out to Vegas, though?” Dean asks.

“We’ve never been,” Jess offers, briefly glancing at Sam. “Seemed more fitting to elope to Vegas than say… Miami.” Dean shrugs.

“I suppose,” he mumbles. He doesn’t envy Sam breaking the news to his mom, though. Charlie clears her throat and dabs at her mouth with a napkin.

“I got some good news this morning,” she pipes up. Everyone looks up from their food. “I got a call from Stanton. I’m going in for an interview on Tuesday.” Sam, Jess and Castiel look slightly confused, but Dean’s eyes light up.

“Charlie, that’s incredible!” Dean gushes, scooting across the floor to give her a tight side hug.

“Who’s Stanton?” Cas asks.

“Not who. What.” Dean answers, “It’s a prep high school. One of the best schools in the state, actually.”

“Yup,” Charlie agrees proudly. “I heard they were hiring right after all that shit with Roman went down. I submitted my resume, but I really didn’t expect anything to come of it.”

“And you waited until now to tell us?!” Dean gapes. She shrugs absently.

“I got the phone call just before I got here,” she admits, “I’ve spent the last seven hours just trying to process it.”

“That’s so exciting!” Jess grins brightly. “Would you still be teaching history?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t gotten the job yet,” Charlie says, holding out her hands. “I’m still hoping I’ll be able to make it through the interview without vomiting.”

“You’ll knock it out of the park,” Dean assures, punching her playfully in the shoulder. Charlie smiles at him and takes a small bite of her pizza.

“I may need you to text me encouragement for the rest of the weekend,” she says. Dean smiles and pulls out his phone. He taps quickly before Charlie’s phone chimes. She picks it up off one of the boxes.

“‘Sure thing,’” She reads with a smile. “Thanks, Dean.” Dean chews his food and winks at her.

“Anytime.”

* * *

 

The U-haul sits parked at the curb in front of Cas’ (and now Dean’s) house. By the time they had finished loading everything up and did a quick clean up of the apartment, both men had been exhausted. They’d agreed to get the boxes and few bits of furniture unloaded the next day.

Dean stretches across their bed, face down and eyes drooping shut. He hears the bedroom door squeak with movement and he doesn’t know if it’s Grace the cat or Cas.

“C’mon, Dean,” Cas says, bed dipping as he crawls up onto it. Dean smiles as Cas leans down and kisses over the shell of his ear. “Under the covers.”

Dean groans and rolls onto his back. He reaches down and pulls Cas up by his arms over him. Dean is struck by how gorgeous he is. The fluorescent light from the ceiling fan creates a  halo effect around his mop of hair. Dean runs his fingers through it, slightly shifting the strands.

“You going to continue our interrupted fun from earlier?” Dean ask with a suggestive wink. “You said you’d make it up to me.”

“You were half asleep when I walked in here and now you’re ready for sex?” Cas asks incredulously.

“Always ready,” Dean mumbles between a yawn. Cas looks at him doubtfully.

“Uh-huh. Why don’t get a good night sleep so both of us can make it to our orgasms without passing out?” Dean pouts out his lips and gives a disappointed groan, but nods just the same. His brow furrows as a thought from earlier occurs to him.

“Hey, why are we doing this?” he asks. Cas’ expression instantly shifts to confusion and panic. Dean quickly tries to correct his mistake, “No, no, don’t worry. I’m not talking about moving in together. I mean moving in here, to this location.” Cas’ face relaxes and he glances around his room.

“Well, we both agreed that my house was bigger than your apartment.”

“Yeah, but…” Dean trails off and lets his head fall back against the bed. “Sam and I were talking today and he brought up a good point: Why aren’t we buying a place together?” Cas’ brow furrows deeply, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I mean, yeah, your place is bigger, but we still have a lot of stuff of mine that’s not going to fit,” Dean continues, “even if we do get rid of a bunch of it. And your lease agreement is up when?”

“October,” Cas admits. He laces his fingers flat over the center of Dean’s chest and lays his chin down on top of them. “Buying a house is a big decision, Dean. Not one to make lightly or spur-of-the-moment.” Dean brings his hands up and cups Cas’ face, brushing a thumb over his cheekbones.

“Yeah, I know,” he gives Cas a reassuring smile. “Look, there’s no rush right now. We can think about it, take our time. We have four months.” Dean cranes his neck up and kisses Cas sweetly.

“You really want to shackle yourself to me by…” Cas imitates a dramatic “duh-duh-dun” sound, “investing in property?” Dean chuckles to himself and slides his hands further down until they are cupping Cas’ behind.

“You bet your sweet ass I would,” Dean replies, giving it a playful squeeze. Cas laughs and rolls off of Dean and onto the bed. He pulls himself tighter into Dean’s arms and snuggles into his neck.

“Time to take your own advice,” Dean mumbles. “Under the covers, time for bed.” Cas nods into Dean’s shoulder and hefts himself to his feet. Dean stands with a pained grunt. He tugs off his shirt and pulls on a pair of sleep shorts.

Cas is already under the covers, face pressed into his pillow. Dean crawls into bed and wraps his arm around Cas’ waist, pulling him close until they are spooned together.

“‘Night, Cas,” he says, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. Cas makes a small intelligible noise that Dean can only assume is “love you.”

“Love you, too,” Dean replies.

* * *

 

Dean’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he stares down the display case, the rich confections glaring back at him. He hears the bell above the door chime and the familiar slap of Charlie’s Converse on the tile.

“Sorry, sorry. I know I’m late.” she says as she sidles up next to Dean in line.

“Hey Charlie,” Dean mumbles without looking up. “Not a problem, I’m just figuring out which donut to get.” Charlie leans down and examines the case.

“Hmmm, well, Maple Bacon is my favorite, but I think you’d like the Yoga Pants more.” Charlie offers.

“Which one is that?” Dean asks. Charlie points to the row of donuts on the far right.

“The one with the brownie on top.” Dean shakes his head with an incredulous chuckle.

“As if a donut isn’t bad enough for you,” He mumbles.

“Sweet Theory does not fuck around,” Charlie replies with a grin. The clerk calls out “next” and Charlie and Dean approach the counter. Dean orders a Maple Bacon donut and a cup of coffee, Charlie decides on a muffin.

“Look at this thing! It’s as big as my fist!” Charlie gushes as they settle into one of the outside tables. The heat is beginning to settle over the neighborhood and the early morning air is already thick and humid.

“Good luck finishing that thing,” Dean laughs. He looks down at his donut, trying to figure out where to start in the ginormous monstrosity.

“Might I suggest these?” Charlie offers, pulling out a fork and knife.

“The day I use silverware to eat a donut is the day I turn in my man card,” Dean says flatly, picking up his donut. He widens his jaw as far as it will go in an attempt to bite into it.

“So?” Charlie asks eagerly. “Is this place not the best?” Dean nods enthusiastically as he chews.

“Dear God, that’s amazing,” he says after he swallows. He wipes at his mouth with a napkin. “So how’s the new job going?” Charlie shrugs and picks at her muffin.

“So far so good,” she replies. “The kids are really… I don’t know, ‘serious’ I guess? ‘Focused’ is probably a better term for it. Totally unlike Carver Edlund.” Dean nods.

“But you were expecting this, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie nods, “It’s still an adjustment, though.” Dean smiles at his friend. It’s strange not working with Charlie anymore. The new history teacher, Victor, is ok, but Dean has made it his mission to pull the stick out of his ass before the end of the year.

“How’s house hunting going?” Dean’s eyes widen comically in exasperation.

“It’s… going.” he replies. Charlie grimaces.

“That bad, huh?”

“We’re trying to stay close to downtown, but every house we’ve seen is either 300K or needs 200K in repairs.” Dean says. They’d only started looking for houses around the end of July but within six weeks both Dean and Cas were sick of it.

“Why downtown?” Charlie asks.

“Cas wants to stay close to the station,” Dean replies. “Plus, you and Dorothy are down this way. We’d be closer to Jess and Sam.”

“Dude, you guys could still live at the beaches,” Charlie argues. “We’d all still be in Jacksonville.” Dean shakes his head.

“We’re pretty set somewhere close to downtown,” he replies, “Riverside, San Marco, Five Points… that area.” Charlie nods and drops the subject. Dean is glad of this; he knows she remembers her and Dorothy’s exhaustive search for their own home.

“So, I found out something pretty interesting this week,” Charlie says. Dean makes a small interested noise. “Roman’s involvement in that whole rigmarole with the news story wasn’t a coincidence.” Dean’s head perks up in surprise.

“What?” he asks, mouth full of donut. Charlie gets a gleeful look in her eye.

“I’ve recently been thinking about all the drama with the news story and something wasn’t sitting right with me,” she whispers conspiratorially.

“What?” Dean repeats. He doesn’t understand the big secret, but he plays along.

“Bartholomew… I don’t know, he said something when he was interviewing me. It gave me pause,” Charlie shakes her head absently. “So, I did a little digging and sure enough: no coincidence.”

“What?” Dean repeats once more, a little less patiently. As much as he loves Charlie, keeping her concise is an issue.

“They were in a frat together, Bartholomew and Roman.” Charlie says with a triumphant grin.

“What?” Dean breathes, eyes large in shock.

“University of Florida, class of 2003, Theta Chi,” Charlie recites from memory.

“You’re sure?” Dean asks. “Same graduating class and everything?” Charlie nods.

“Oh yeah. I actually talked to another one of their ‘brothers’, a guy named Edgar. They were pretty tight.” Charlie replies. “My guess is Bartholomew got the idea and Roman just went along with it to help his old friend.”

“Wow. I can’t believe it… No wait, I actually totally can.” Dean says ruefully.

“I heard our friend Mr. Roman isn’t at the school anymore,” Charlie raises an eyebrow. “He finally got fired?” Dean pops the last bite of donut into his mouth, enjoys the smoky crunch of the bacon.

“The official party line is that he resigned to take care of some ‘family matters,’” Dean says with an annoyed expression. “He was on the chopping block after the board discovered some unusual school policy changes, but then he beat them to the punch.”

“How’s Singer taking the promotion?” Charlie asks with a wry smile.

“How do you think?” Dean laughs. “Ornery and pissed off. The school will be better off with him in there, though.” Charlie hums in agreement. There’s a lull in the conversation and the soft noise of the street drifts over them.

“How are you doing, Dean,” Charlie glances at him curiously. “You and Cas?” A slow smile spreads across Dean’s face.

“Good, real good,” Dean says. He knows he is unable to hide his happiness and he doesn’t try to. “It’s just… yeah, just great.” Charlie pokes her tongue into the side of her cheek, clearly amused by how flustered he is.

“Still all rainbows and butterflies, huh?” Charlie takes a sip of her coffee.

“We’re still figuring each other out, this whole living together thing,” Dean replies. “It’s not perfect.” Dean lets the line about “ _it’s pretty damn close_ ” go unsaid. Charlie rolls her eyes.

“Yeah right,” she snorts. Dean shrugs; he doesn’t know what to tell her. Having Cas in his arms every night, coming home to him at the end of the day, is the best feeling Dean can imagine. He loves the knowledge that when he thinks of _Home_ , it always includes Cas as well.

“Hey Charlie, can I ask you a question?” Dean asks hesitantly. “How did you know Dorothy was the one?” Charlie’s eyes widen and she stops mid-bite into her food.

“Are you talking about what I think you’re talking about?” She leans forward conspiratorially.

“You know what I’m getting at,” Dean sighs in exasperation. Charlie’s brow furrows and she cups her chin in her hand.

“Well, I just… I just thought about what it would be like to live without her,” Charlie replies. “I know that sounds kind of morbid. Let me see if I can put it another way…” She takes another sip of her coffee and collects her thoughts.

“I thought about what my life would be like in five years if I didn’t have her and… and I couldn’t even picture it. She was just there. I _literally_ couldn’t imagine my life or being happy without her. Does that make any sense?” Dean smiles warmly.

“Yeah… yeah it really does.” He says. Everything Charlie says sounds weirdly familiar. Dean has had relationships in the past, decent ones too, but they pale in comparison to what he has with Cas. “Thanks for that.”

“Anytime,” Charlie grins. She clasps her hands together and sets her elbows on the table. “Alright, I am _so_ behind school gossip. You’ve got to fill me in on what’s going on! Are Kevin and Channing dating yet?” Dean snorts but recounts the latest news at her request.

  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I made a "Friends" reference.
> 
> Also [Sweet Theory Baking Co.](https://www.facebook.com/SweetRevolutionBakingCo) and all the treats I mentioned actually exist and they are _glorious_!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so we end where is all began...

Castiel checks his phone for the tenth time, groaning in irritation. Dean said he would meet him at the restaurant at 6:30; it’s already 6:45. He grumbles to himself, it’s not like Dean to be late. Normally, Dean is the one pulling _him_ out the door at the very last minute while Cas continues to fiddle with his shirt cuffs or searches around for his jacket.

He glances around the empty foyer. Castiel finds it very strange that there is no one else here, especially considering that they were on a wait list supposedly. The hostess had apologized when Cas had arrived, saying that a very large party was taking up most of the restaurant this evening. _Some sort of large family gathering_ , the girl said.

 _Who the Hell has a family gathering at an Olive Garden on a Wednesday night?_ Cas thinks

Castiel slumps back on the bench. He didn’t even want to go out tonight; he was more interested in staying home and making some headway on the moving boxes that still littered their house.

Castiel smiles to himself and glances down at the lock screen of his phone. It’s a photo of Dean and him on the day they moved into the house, _their_ house. Dean is grinning from ear-to-ear, holding up the keys to the front door with one hand while Cas is tucked beneath his other arm.

Months of searching had been fruitless until he and Dean had stumbled upon the little white house, only a few blocks from the river’s edge. The price was a bit more than they originally wanted to pay, but as soon as they stepped inside the Queen Anne-style home and saw the hardwood floors and classic design, they both knew this was what they’d been searching for.

It needed some work, that was for sure. There was no garage, something Dean worked on remedying as soon as they’d closed in November. The backyard was also in rough shape and Castiel was eager for spring to arrive so he could start planting a garden and reseeding the lawn. The wallpaper in the master bathroom had to go and the kitchen was in serious need of an update; both of these we’re project Cas and Dean planned on working on over the summer.

Aside from that, the house was perfect, structurally. Big enough not only for Cas and Dean but also for, perhaps, a family in the future.

Cas grinned to himself as he pulled his Kindle from the inside pocket of his trenchcoat. Dean bought it for him for Christmas, already pre-loaded with “A Dance With Dragons.” He taps it on and finds his spot in the book.

Castiel lets himself get sucked into the action of the story, barely noticing when the door between the restaurant and foyer opens. Someone walks into the area and sits down on the bench across from him.

“Hey, excuse me Sir?” A familiar voice says. Castiel raises his head, ready to remark on Dean’s tardiness. Instead, he startles when he sees Dean sharply dressed in a dark suit and tie on the bench across from him.

“Dean?” Castiel asks, eyes flicking over the clothes. “What’s going on? Why are you dressed-?”

“I was wondering...,” Dean cuts him off, taking a nervous breath. “I’m here alone actually, and I was wondering if you’d like to join me for dinner?” A slow, hesitant smile spreads across Cas’ face.

“What are you up to?” He asks. Dean snorts and shrugs absently.

“Nothing, nothing,” he answers, looking away. “I’m just wondering if this…  gorgeous man sitting across from me would like to spend an evening with me.” Dean dips his hand into his pocket and pulls something out, “and then maybe forever after?” Castiel’s eyes widen as Dean extends his hand out, offering a glimmering silver band in his direction. His jaw drops open and he feels like all of the blood is draining from his face.

“Dean,” he breathes out.

“It’s just…” Dean licks at his lips nervously, “It was just over a year ago that we met and it happened to be the best accident of my life. I’ve never been happier than I am with you.”

“Dean,” Cas repeats, setting his kindle aside.

“Marry me, Cas?” Dean asks softly, his expression gone serious. He moves off the bench, kneeling on the floor in front of Castiel. He looks from the ring to Dean and swallows hard.

“Oh my God,” he mumbles in disbelief. “Did you… Did you really just propose in an Olive Garden?” Dean’s shoulders drop and his expression fills with confusion.

“What? I thought it was kind of clever,” Dean answers defensively, rising to his feet. “Like our first date, y’know? I mean, there’s more to it than this. I practically rented out the entire building.” Castiel laughs breathlessly as happy tears spring to his eyes, completely overwhelmed.

“Dean, I…” The door to the restaurant opens and Meg pokes her head out.

“Are you guys done yet?” She asks, glancing between Dean and him. “What’s the verdict?”

“He hasn’t answered yet,” Dean sighs. She glares at Cas pointedly.

“Well, hurry up, Clarence!” She snaps. “Some of us our starving in here.” Cas looks from Meg to Dean to the ring in his hands.

“Yes!” He blurts out. Instantly, he is swallowed up in a hug. Dean squeezes him tightly, mumbling _“thank yous”_  and _“I love yous”_ into his hair. Cas presses his face against Dean’s shoulder, happy sobs bubbling up from his chest. He is only vaguely aware of more people coming into the foyer with a smattering of applause. Cas raises his head to see the entire Winchester family as well as Balthazar and Meg.

Dean pulls back, wiping a tear out of the corner of his eye. He bites at his lip shyly as he takes Cas’ hand and slips the band onto his left hand.

“And now it’s official,” he says. There is a click and a flash as a picture is snapped.

“Smile, you two!” Mary says, holding up her camera once more. Cas and Dean pose with their arms around each other before separating and fielding hugs from everyone else. Sam and Jess both squeeze Cas hard enough to leave him breathless. John gives Cas a warm nod and a friendly pat on the back, which Cas counts that as a win. Cas catches sight of Balthazar briefly embracing Dean before leaning down and whispering something in his ear that causes Dean’s smile to falter (Cas could swear he heard him say “If you hurt him, there won’t be a body to find”).

Mary moves forward, hugging both Cas and Dean simultaneously. “Welcome to the family!” She gushes. She pulls back and looks at both of them soberly. “By the way, I will expect a wedding from you guys. An _actual_ wedding, none of the Las Vegas bullshit!” Dean snorts in surprise at his mother’s language.

“I told you, Mom,” Sam groans. “It just made more sense-”

“Sam Winchester, you deprived me of a wedding!” Mary states fiercely, turning on her heel and facing her youngest child. “I am _deprived_!”

“Don’t worry, Mary,” Cas says gently, placing both hands on her shoulders and kissing her softly on the cheek. “You’ll get a wedding.” Jessica fakes a cough, muttering “Kiss-ass” jokingly.

“Come on,” Dean says clapping his hands. “Let’s go order our dinner. I know I’m starving.” Everyone shuffles out of the foyer. Castiel feels Dean slide their hands together, pulling him into the restaurant.

* * *

 

Dean didn’t just go out of his way to invite both of their families, but many of their friends as well. The proposal quickly turns into a makeshift engagement party. Castiel watches happily as Ava chats with Meg while Gabe has Jess and Sam in stitches.

“What would you have done if he’d said ‘no?’” Charlie asks, popping a piece of fried calamari into her mouth. Dean smiles and shrugs, glancing at Cas out of the corner of his eye.

“I figured he was good for it,” he answers. “Plus, Cas already proposed to me first.” Castiel chokes on his wine and swallows painfully. He turns to Dean, brow furrowed.

“No, I didn’t,” he says.

“Sure you did,” Dean replies as he takes a bite of his linguini. “Remember? The night we found out Sam and Jess got engaged?”

“I did _not_ propose to you, Dean,” Cas insists. He’s sure he would’ve remembered asking Dean to marry him.

“But you did, Cas,” Dean says wryly. “You said, and I quote, ‘For the record, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.’” Castiel opens his mouth to argue the point and then immediately claps is shut.

“And I said ‘Same,’” Dean continues.

“I think that counts,” Charlie teases Cas. Dorothy nods in agreement. Castiel blinks a couple times, sighing and nodding reluctantly.

“Alright, alright, you got me,” he admits. He narrows his eyes at Dean. “You always do that.” Dean gives him a cheeky grin.

“But you love me for it,” he says. Cas’ face softens and he leans forward, kissing Dean tenderly.

“I do,” he murmurs, twining his and Dean’s fingers together. “I really do.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a ficlet that was supposed to be just 2K words, this really took on a life of its own. This is also my longest fic to date and I am _stunned_
> 
> I can't thank everyone enough for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos. This story would have never happened without your support. I genuinely mean that.
> 
> Big, gigantic thanks (and equally gigantic hugs) to [ANobleCompanion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion) for all her help, her professional expertise and for hosting countless 1K1Hrs. You are the entire reason I was able to keep on schedule and didn't take two years to write this.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/)


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